


Hardest Part

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Category: Glee
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, Author's Choice Square, Babies, Baby Names, Best Friends, Birth Control, Birth Parents, Childbirth, Christmas, Discussion of Abortion, Discussion of Adoption, Emotional Support, Family, Fatherhood, First Dates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Holidays, Interfaith Relationship, Judaism, Lawyers, M/M, NYADA, Names, Past Rachel Berry/Brody Weston, Past Rachel Berry/Finn Hudson, Religious Conflict, Religious Discussion, Road Trip With A Baby, Secrets, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-night stand sends two lives spiraling in opposite directions. For Rachel, that night leads to nine months that don't fit into her plan. For Finn, it leads to a relationship he never expected, but which turns out to be exactly what he needs when Rachel's nine months turns into Finn's next 18 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Thin Pink Line

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by david of oz (of course). <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At three minutes even, the second line is still there, stubbornly pink.

At one-and-a-half minutes, the second bright pink line appears next to the control line in the tiny plastic window, and Rachel feels her heart start to pound and her mouth become uncomfortably dry. The instructions said to wait for three minutes to read the results. Maybe, she hopes, just maybe, that line will be gone by three minutes. She sets the test back on the edge of the sink and watches the final minute ticking down. At three minutes even, the second line is still there, stubbornly pink.

“No,” Rachel whispers to the pink line, leaning down to stare at it menacingly. “No no no. Go away. Shoo.” The line stays right where it is. 

Rachel picks up the stick and gives it a vigorous shake. She bangs it on the edge of the sink, then shakes it once more before holding it up to look at it. The line is still there. 

“Stop being there!” Rachel hisses at the line. The line doesn’t stop being there. In fact, the line doesn’t seem to care at all that its very existence is a tremendous divergence in the carefully plotted and planned life of one Rachel Barbra Berry, current NYADA student and not-so-distant future Broadway star. No, the line continues existing with absolutely no consideration for Rachel’s future whatsoever. 

Rachel’s Tuesday morning class starts in less than an hour, though, so she wraps the test up in toilet paper. She puts the paper-wrapped test into a plastic bag, then shoves the plastic bag into the bottom of her purse.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she tells the test. 

Later turns out to be _much_ later. Rachel throws the actual test away that same day, in between classes, but she successfully manages to ignore the implications of the test for the rest of the week. She buys a bottle of multivitamins—regular, not prenatal—and takes one every morning as directed, but otherwise makes no changes to her life. She certainly doesn’t think about what the test means. So a little white stick had a second pink line; that’s just abstract, not concrete at all! 

When nothing seems to change physically, other than a pleasant lack of her bothersome menstrual cycle, Rachel is almost able to convince herself that she never saw a second line at all. Maybe she never even took the test, and it was all a strange dream brought on by the emotional stress of her regrettable one night stand with Finn back in Lima and the mild complications inherent with dating—non-exclusively, of course—a fellow NYADA student. She isn’t the p-word, the word she hasn’t yet thought to herself, let alone said aloud to anyone. 

Rachel suppresses the thought so well that she really does forget about her situation. The occasional nausea in the morning is easy to dismiss as a sign that she’s drinking too much green tea to compensate for the exhaustion, and the exhaustion is a natural byproduct of being a diligent student in her dance, voice, and acting classes. She’s had no appreciable weight gain. Really, nothing feels that different for the first several weeks. 

She’s certain neither Kurt nor Santana so much as suspects, which means Rachel still hasn’t had to talk about it, which means she can carry on as she has been for the previous months. She does carry on successfully. She attends her classes and her outside vocal coaching, she goes on dates with Brody and social outings with Kurt, and she even finds herself developing something close to friendship with Santana, who obviously has no intention of moving out in the near future. Some of her skirts and pants fit a little more snugly through the waist, but strategic layers, judicious use of black, and the fact that she still prefers having sex with the lights off stave off any suspicions from Brody or her roommates. 

Things continue to go well for the next few months, through the break between spring and summer semesters, and into the summer semester as well. When Brody abruptly breaks things off with her halfway into her second semester, Rachel does finally have a moment of panic over what she’s going to do about the p-word situation. She’s alone, all alone. She gives herself a few hours to obsess over her pathetic future life as an unemployed actress single mother, then she vomits a few times, washes her face, drinks some herbal tea, and reminds herself that she was never really going to be able to count on Brody for support as it was, especially since she can’t be entirely sure who the father of the baby is. She can’t picture Brody as the fatherly type, anyway. 

Moreover, Rachel realizes that she can’t picture herself as a mother at all, single or otherwise. None of this is part of her plan, and Rachel is a careful planner. She needs to look into alternative options. She’s been operating in a haze of denial, but now she needs to address the reality. She uses her phone to look up a list of clinics in the area, then she calls several of them until she finds one that can schedule an appointment for two days later. A little more research assures her that recovery from an abortion should be fairly quick, only putting her out of commission briefly, which means she’ll miss a handful of dance classes, plus a day or two of stage combat, and won’t have to miss her voice or acting classes at all. 

Two days later, Rachel arrives promptly at the clinic. Her paperwork is processed, she provides both urine and blood for testing, and then she waits to speak with one of the clinic nurses. When the nurse comes in, however, she has a frown on her face.

“Miss Berry,” the nurse says. “We don’t have a date for your last menstrual cycle. Can you recall when that was?”

“I didn’t answer that question because I wasn’t precisely sure. I was doing some traveling, and I’ve never been very regular,” Rachel explains. 

“Could you give it your best guess?” the nurse asks.

“February,” Rachel says. The nurse’s brow furrows ever so slightly. “It might have been late January or very early March,” Rachel adds, hoping that will make the nurse happier.

“We’ll need to do an ultrasound for dating purposes,” the nurse says, sounding apologetic. “With you being unsure about your LMP, we want to be certain about the dates, both for health and legal purposes.”

“I won’t have to watch, will I?” Rachel asks. The nurse shakes her head.

“No. New York doesn’t require ultrasound at all, but since we don’t know exactly how far along you are, the clinic would prefer we perform one,” the nurse explains. 

Rachel consents, and the nurse performs the ultrasound quickly and respectfully, with the screen turned away and the volume off. When it’s over and Rachel dresses again, the nurse asks her to wait in the room for a moment. The nurse leaves the room briefly, then returns with a packet of paperwork.

“Miss Berry, based on your ultrasound, I think your pregnancy is between 24 and 26 weeks along. We’re legally limited to performing abortions only up to 24 weeks,” the nurse says.

Rachel feels stunned. “24 weeks? I can’t possibly be that far along! I don’t look pregnant. I barely feel different at all!”

“Based on your guesses about your last menstrual cycle, you would have to be at least 22 weeks, and the ultrasound suggested you conceived closest to your initial guess of February or late January.”

“But I need to have the abortion. I have school. I— I’m just not prepared for—” Despite her best efforts, Rachel starts to cry.

“I can help you find another clinic. I know of one in Maryland, and two out west,” the nurse says gently. “If you want to move forward with the abortion, we can find you a safe, legal provider.”

“I can’t go to Maryland,” Rachel says, through tears. “I need my life to be normal again!”

The nurse takes Rachel’s hand in hers. “We will do everything we can to take care of you, Miss Berry. I’ll even travel with you to Maryland myself, if you’d like.”

Rachel shakes her head. “No. I need to think about this. I had this all planned. I had _everything_ planned, and now nothing’s going the way it was supposed to go!”

“Take whatever time you need. If you do want me to schedule you an appointment at an out-of-state clinic, I’m going to have to encourage you to make a decision soon,” the nurse says.

Rachel nods her understanding, and with more tears and a grateful hug for the nurse, she gathers her things and makes her way back to the loft. She sits on the sofa, crying, with her head in her hands. At least 24 weeks pregnant? That means that she would be having a baby in four months, maybe less. Four months isn’t enough time to rearrange her life and make adequate plans. She has to tell her dads. She has to make some sort of arrangement.

She’s still deep in thought when the loft door slides open, then closes again. She doesn’t look up. Hopefully it’s not Santana, or if it is, she’ll leave Rachel alone this once. A moment later, Kurt’s hand starts patting her back as he sits down beside her. “Tell me what happened,” he says. 

Rachel turns towards Kurt and buries her face in his shirt as she starts to cry even harder. “I’ve ruined all my plans!”

“I’m sure you can muster an apology to Ms. July for your apparent infraction,” Kurt says, still patting her back. “It’ll work out, Rachel.” 

Rachel shakes her head violently. “It’s not that. It’s— I don’t know if you’ve noticed anything different about me lately.”

“I’ve been concerned about a few things over the last few months, but I assumed if there were anything serious going on or you needed any help managing, you’d let me know,” Kurt says carefully. 

“I couldn’t tell anyone,” Rachel says. “If I told them, that would make it real.”

“Rachel,” Kurt says softly. “Rachel, don’t make me leap to erroneous conclusions.” 

Rachel presses her face into Kurt’s shirt. “I’m pregnant. I’m _too_ pregnant.”

Kurt’s hand stops moving, resting on her back. “Rachel. Oh, God, Rachel.” 

“I know,” Rachel sobs. “I went to a clinic, but they say I’m at least 24 weeks along, and then the nurse started talking about going to Maryland, and I just—” She breaks off in a harder sob. “I don’t know what to do.”

Kurt hugs Rachel tightly, not saying anything for close to a minute. “Rachel, you have to tell him,” he finally says. 

“I don’t even know who to tell,” Rachel says. 

“Then you have to be sure, and then tell,” Kurt says. “You know I’m right, Rachel.” 

“But I don’t _want_ a baby, Kurt. I just want my life to go back to normal!”

“You don’t have to keep it yourself,” Kurt says softly. “But you have to proceed… carefully. Thinking about everything involved.” 

“Brody won’t want a baby, either,” Rachel says. 

Kurt is quiet for another minute or so. “Is it Brody you need to tell?” 

“It has to be Brody. There was only… it was just one time,” Rachel tries to explain. 

“You and I both know the number of times doesn’t precisely matter always. I don’t generally ask you for details, Rachel, but what about birth control with either of them?” 

“I’ve always used birth control pills _and_ condoms,” Rachel says. “The only person I didn’t use a condom with as well was…” Rachel suddenly gets very quiet, taking a few slow breaths before speaking again. “And I might have missed a day or two of my pills due to all the travel.”

Rachel can feel Kurt nodding slowly. “You have to tell him, Rachel.” 

“I can’t. You don’t understand, Kurt,” Rachel says. 

“I know it’ll be hard, but you do need to.” 

“No, you don’t understand. I left! We slept together, and I sneaked out in the morning before he woke up. I didn’t leave him a note. I haven’t even talked to him! How am I supposed to call him and tell him I’m pregnant?” Rachel asks. “No, I’m going to find an agency. I’m sure there’s a nice couple, people like my dads, who would give this baby a good home.”

“Rachel, I love you dearly and you’re my best friend, but if you don’t tell him, I will,” Kurt says firmly. 

“I can’t,” Rachel insists. “You do what you have to do, but I’m going to do what I think is in everyone’s best interests. I’m only eighteen. Finn’s not even twenty yet. Neither one of us can possibly handle this on our own.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Neither of you has to.”


	2. Meanwhile, Back in Lima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Puck knows Finn needs is a new relationship, one where Finn gets to be the one pursued, and that’s exactly what Puck’s going to do.

Five days after Mr. Schuester doesn’t marry Ms. Pillsbury, and four days after Puck first tries to comfort Finn, Puck decides that Finn has moped enough. After about three hours of thinking it over, Puck also decides that maybe his time has finally come. What Finn needs isn’t just getting over Rachel’s sneaking out, and it’s not even that Finn needs to accept he and Rachel are over, because until the hooking up at the not-quite-a-wedding, Finn had seemed to accept that. No, what Puck knows Finn needs is a new relationship, one where Finn gets to be the one pursued, and that’s exactly what Puck’s going to do. 

Puck spends two hours after he wakes up figuring out exactly what he’s going to do, and then he sends Finn a text to be up, dressed, and outside, because Puck’s picking him up in forty-five minutes. That gives Puck just enough time to go get a helmet and a pair of gloves, because the last thing Finn needs is frostbite, and since Puck’d give Finn the only helmet, the last thing Puck needs is a head injury. Puck is already out the door of his mom’s rental when he gets the reply, which just says “Ok see you then.” 

The helmet and gloves purchasing takes exactly as long as Puck figured, and he pulls up in front of the Hudson-Hummel house about two minutes earlier than he said. Finn must’ve been waiting, because he hurries outside almost immediately after. 

“Hey,” Finn says. “Where are we going?”

“Breakfast first,” Puck says, handing Finn the helmet and holding out the gloves. “I was thinking Bob Evans maybe. Then you’re going to do like my brother’s girlfriend said, and then out of town for the rest of the day.” 

“Uh. How do you know about that?” Finn asks, as he pulls on the gloves and then fastens the helmet strap.

“Psychic. You know I always keep up with the important gossip,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, that’s true. You always do,” Finn says. He looks at the bike dubiously. “Do I have to sit in the sidecar?”

Puck laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t think you’d fit, for starters. Climb on behind me.” 

Finn climbs on, putting one arm loosely around Puck’s waist and patting him on the shoulder with his other hand. “Okay, I’m good to go.”

“I’ll go slow until you’ve got your balance, okay?” Puck says, then pulls back into the street, avoiding the potholes as much as he can. Like Puck expected, Finn ends up holding on more tightly within a minute or two, and once Puck decides Finn’s probably as secure as he’s going to get, he speeds up, heading towards the Bob Evans. 

The parking lot isn’t too crowded, which means they shouldn’t have to wait too long, and Puck maneuvers so he’s holding the door for Finn as they walk in. Puck waits until they’re seated and ordered to bring up the rest of the day again. 

“So after we stop at the good ol’ University of Lima, we’ll head out of town, but you have to tell me your preference: hockey or basketball, and college or pro?” 

“Hockey, I guess,” Finn says. “No preference on college or pro.”

“Columbus either way, then. We can check OSU and the Blue Jackets both,” Puck says. “While we’re driving over, you can think about what you’re going to do between now and when classes start in a few weeks.” 

“I probably need to do some studying or something. I haven’t had to take a math class in a while,” Finn says. 

“Hey, now math, I can do,” Puck says, feeling vaguely triumphant. “We could play for a couple of hours a day, too. I’ve got my guitar here.” 

“You want to start a band or something?” 

“Two-man band,” Puck says. “Hardest part’d be naming it.” 

“Yeah, I guess we’d need a bass player or something, too,” Finn says, looking disproportionately dejected about their lack of bass. 

“Nah, if I can get ahold of a bass, I could record the bass part separately. Play it as a backing track if we get live gigs,” Puck says. “It’d be fun, right? Something creative to balance out the schoolwork?” 

“Sure. Yeah, that could be fun,” Finn says. He brightens even more. “Maybe we could even play live somewhere, like a bar or something.”

“Exactly!” Puck says, congratulating himself as the food arrives and they dig in. Once Finn has eaten most of his Farmer’s Choice and there’s no more sausage for Puck to attempt to steal, Puck puts his fork down. “Ready to head over to UL?” 

“I guess if I have to,” Finn says, sighing dramatically. 

Puck laughs and pays for their breakfasts before Finn can really object, then drives the rest of the way down Harding to the campus, parking near the admissions office. “Right this way,” he says as he somehow manages to open the door for Finn again. 

“You know,” Finn says, as Puck lets the door close behind them, “you could sign up for classes, too.”

Puck snorts. “As what? A pool maintenance major?” 

“Aw, come on, you know you can do a lot more than pools,” Finn says. 

“Like what? Lawns?” Puck asks. “I already told you I’d help you with math!” 

“Right, and I can help you with… whatever it is I turn out to be good at!” Finn says. He turns on the puppy dog eyes. “Come on. Please? Don’t make me do this by myself!”

Puck sighs. “Oh my God, you are so manipulative!” he says, even though Finn probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. “Fine, I’ll fill out an application, but you have to figure out what I put as a major. Deal?” 

“Deal!”

After they turn in their applications and paperwork, Puck drives them out to Columbus for a Blue Jackets game, and by the time it’s over, it’s late enough Puck does not really want to drive a motorcycle over snowy roads, so they get a cheap motel room. Puck doesn’t give in to any of his baser instincts and they each sleep in one of the two double beds. The three weeks before classes start really do end up being a lot of music, math, and a little bit of dorm-room shopping after Puck convinces Finn there’s no good reason for them not to share a dorm. 

When it comes time to register for classes, Finn uses Puck’s entire pool cleaning past against him, pointing out that Puck’s business was successful even though it involved pools in relatively rural western Ohio. Finn’s argument is actually pretty compelling, which is how Puck ends up as a marketing major with a minor in entrepreneurship. Puck is sure there’s a joke somewhere about the marketing major and the education major sharing a dorm, but he’s just not sure what it is yet. 

They both goof off a little too much the first few weeks of the quarter, but then they settle down and pull out decent grades and register for summer quarter, and Puck decides that the night after their last final of spring quarter is a good time to actually further his plan. He waits until the very end of Dead Week to say anything. 

“Your last final’s Thursday morning, right?” Puck asks. 

“Yup, one quarter down, however many left to go,” Finn says. 

“So how about we leave after we’re both done and head down to Cincy? I’ll take you to a Reds game Thursday night, we can stay over and go to the zoo or something the next day, if you want.” 

“Sure. That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” Puck says, looking back down at his textbook. “Me taking you’s a good idea?” 

“Oh. Like you driving us?” Finn asks. 

“Like me paying?” 

“Oh,” Finn says, then after a beat, “That feels kinda weird, but okay, if you want.”

“Why would it be weird for me to pay if I’m taking you?” Puck asks. 

Finn shrugs. “I dunno. Do you think I don’t have the money for it?”

Puck drops his head onto his textbook briefly. “Oh my God, no, I know you _could_ pay for it.” 

“Well, I wanted to make sure you knew I could afford it, and you don’t have to pay for stuff.”

“It’d be really rude if I asked you and then made you pay!” 

Finn frowns slightly. “I feel kinda confused now.”

“Like I said, I thought I’d take you to a game, and something the next day,” Puck says carefully. “Take-take you.”

“Like a date?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah. Like that,” Puck says. “Is that bad?” 

“Well, I mean, it’s still a little weird,” Finn says, “since you’ve been my best friend since we were six.”

Puck’s actually relieved at that answer, because it means Finn isn’t really focusing on the fact that he’s never dated a guy before, and also Finn didn’t immediately change his answer when he realized he’d slightly misunderstood the question. Puck shrugs as he answers Finn. “So this way we know we won’t run out of things to talk about, right?” 

“That’s true. We can give it a try, I guess,” Finn says. Puck grins and goes back to his studying. If Finn thinks about it before Thursday, he’ll probably realize Puck’s been bringing him snacks while they study and paying for more than a few things, usually without mentioning it or letting Finn get the next meal or Redbox. 

Puck thinks he actually may have done well on his finals, and Finn seems similarly upbeat about his finals—they do have two classes that are the same, and they compare notes enough to know they’ll either do really well or really badly. Puck’s final on Thursday morning gets out more quickly than Finn’s, which Puck had anticipated, and he changes shirts, swaps out books for clothes in his backpack, and waits for Finn to get back. 

“Ready?” Puck asks as soon as Finn opens the door to the dorm room. 

Finn looks like he might be a little nervous, but he does give Puck a grin. “Yeah,” he says. “Ready if you are.”

The drive to Cincinnati takes just as long as Puck figured, but it’s not a bad way to spend a few hours, especially since Finn’s lost all tentativeness about holding on while they’re on the motorcycle. Puck hadn’t made any hotel reservations since there’d been only a few days, figuring he might get a better deal by waiting, even. It does mean a little extra time driving through downtown Cincinnati with Finn holding on pretty tightly while they look for a good hotel, but that’s just a bonus in Puck’s mind. 

Puck finally stops at the Westin, because he’s at least heard of that chain, and the valet looks skeptically at the motorcycle when Puck pulls up, which is, Puck admits, a little bit of a bonus. It doesn’t take that long to get checked in and given a room on the third floor, which Puck insists on when the first room they want to give them is on the fourteenth floor. Puck’s plans do _not_ include distracting Finn from how high up they are. 

Once they get to the third floor, though, Puck realizes that the clerk didn’t actually ask what kind of room they wanted, and he may need to ask Finn if they need to get a different room. He holds the door open for Finn and probably looks a little sheepish. 

Puck gestures into the room. “I guess the clerk thought we only needed one bed?” 

“Oh,” Finn says. “Well, we used to share a bed when we were kids, so I guess it doesn’t have to be weird. Unless you feel like it’s weird.”

“I guess it depends on how the rest of today goes, whether it’s weird or not,” Puck says wryly. “You want to head over soon and eat dinner at one of the restaurants there?” 

“Sure. Where’d you want to eat?”

“One of the places inside the ballpark is some kind of trendy thing, we could eat there and impress people when we tell them about it,” Puck suggests. 

“Uh. Sure, if you want,” Finn says. “I don’t know who I’d be trying to impress, though. The only people I can think of are you and maybe Kurt, and I don’t think Kurt would be impressed by anything in Cincinnati.” 

Puck snorts, because Finn’s probably right about Kurt. “Maybe your mom? She’ll think you’re hip or whatever.” Carole would probably actually think that they’re yuppies or something, but maybe if Finn thinks people would be impressed by the restaurant, he’ll be more impressed with the date. 

The sign at the ballpark tells them the restaurant is a ‘gastropub’, which is probably a little less impressive for them since they’re nineteen and not twenty-one, but the food is good and Finn seems to enjoy the food and the restaurant, so when they walk from the restaurant toward their Puck-probably-should-not-have-splurged-so-much good seats, Puck brushes his hand against the back of Finn’s and then nudges it. Finn looks down at their hands, then up at Puck with his eyebrows raised. 

“I said I was taking you to the game,” Puck says. 

“Oh. Okay, yeah,” Finn says, flipping his hand so it’s palm up. Puck grins and wraps his hand around Finn’s, or at least as much as he can, and guides Finn to their seats still grinning. 

“No chance of catching a foul back here, but still pretty good, I thought,” Puck says. 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “Still a little bit weird. Good weird, I think, though.”

“Any way I can make it less weird, or you think that’s more of a getting-used-to-it thing?” 

Finn shrugs the shoulder not connected to the hand holding Puck’s. “I think it’s just a getting-used-to-it thing.”

“Okay.” Puck figures that it _was_ probably too much to hope for that somehow upping the date-like behavior would make it less weird, especially before the game even starts, but he doesn’t let go of Finn’s hand as they sit down, either. He reclaims Finn’s hand after the national anthem, but by the time the seventh inning stretch comes around, Puck decides to see how they both feel about Puck’s arm over Finn’s shoulder in a more than just friendly way. As they sit down, he puts his arm around Finn, then tugs him just a bit closer. Finn actually leans in a little. 

Puck grins a little without looking over at Finn, and he keeps his arm there for most of the remainder of the game, grabbing Finn’s hand once they stand up and start to make their way up out of their section. Finn follows along without seeming even a little bit uncomfortable, which feels like a huge win for Puck. 

“Ready to head back?” Puck asks. 

“You want to walk for a while or something? We don’t have to head right back,” Finn says. 

“Explore the Cincy nightlife?” Puck says. “Sounds good.” It probably is a good idea, because even in Puck’s head the single king-size bed is looming a little more. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Sounds good to me, too.”

They walk slowly up and down several blocks, not going in anywhere except a sleepy-looking bar for a to-go pop each, and when they get back to the hotel, Puck chews on his bottom lip for a moment as they wait for the elevator. In some kind of ideal world, maybe they wouldn’t be sleeping in the same place all the time, and Puck’d be taking Finn home or something, but since they are staying in the same room, Puck decides to stop outside the room once they reach their floor. 

He puts his back against the door, one hand still holding Finn’s, and smiles in what’s probably a slightly tentative way. “Before we go in, I’m going to kiss you. Okay?” 

Finn shifts from foot to foot, but returns Puck’s smile, also a little nervously. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay. Good.” Puck pushes off the door, his free hand going to the back of Finn’s head to tilt it down, and he’s just enough off-balance that he kisses Finn slightly harder than he originally had intended. Finn makes a slightly muffled little “mmph” noise against Puck’s lips, but he puts his arm around Puck to steady him and doesn’t pull away from the kiss at all. Puck parts his lips just enough to run his tongue along Finn’s, tilting his head more as he does. 

Finn seems hesitant at first, but then he must decide to just go with it, because he pulls Puck closer and opens his mouth slightly, actively kissing Puck back. Puck isn’t sure how long they stand there in the hall holding onto each other and kissing, but it’s long enough for Puck to know that it’s definitely something they both want, and he’s not completely sure after a point if he’s initiating everything different or if Finn might be. 

“Would you like to come inside?” Puck finally asks, smiling much less tentatively at Finn. 

Finn nods. “Yeah. We should get out of the hall.”

Puck’s smile widens and he unlocks the door, and as he puts on the chain lock, he wonders if Finn’s noticed how long it’s been since Puck didn’t hold a door open for him. He turns around and takes both of Finn’s hands, pulling him into the main part of the room. “You need to tell me what your boundaries are, ’cause usually people don’t share a king-size bed the first night they go on a date.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Finn face turns a little red. “I don’t know. I mean, I trust you, and this is all sorta new for me.”

“Yeah, and I know there’s a difference between pushing you to try something new, and just pushing you, so you need to let me know if I start just plain pushing too much,” Puck says. “It won’t hurt my feelings. Well, unless you insult me in the process.” 

“Maybe we can just start trying some stuff, and if it’s too much, I’ll tell you?”

“Okay.” Puck squeezes Finn’s hands. “Can I take your shirt off?” Finn takes a deep breath, nodding as he exhales. “Cool.” Puck drops Finn’s hands and grabs Finn’s shirt instead, pulling it up and over Finn’s head as Finn raises his arms, then tosses it in the floor and puts his hands on Finn’s bare chest. He leans in and starts kissing Finn again, this time running his hands over Finn’s skin. Finn shivers, then puts both arms around Puck’s waist. 

Puck moves one hand to Finn’s back, barely putting any pressure on Finn’s skin as he moves his hand in a big circle. As he kisses Finn harder, he pulls Finn in closer with the hand on his back. Finn grips the back of Puck’s shirt with both hands and starts tugging it upward. Puck stops kissing Finn long enough to take his shirt off, raising one eyebrow questioningly as he throws it on top of Finn’s. Finn grins as he nods, then puts his arms back around Puck. 

Now Puck puts both of his hands on Finn’s back, one high and close to Finn’s neck as they start kissing again, and he brings their chests together. Whatever tentativeness Finn had at the beginning of the evening, it hasn’t come back yet, and Puck feels a little more optimistic than he thought he would. As he slips his tongue into Finn’s mouth again, he shifts his weight, almost leaning on Finn. Finn holds him tighter, pulling him more snugly against Finn’s chest. 

Puck loses track of time again, standing in the middle of the room and knowing they aren’t going to get interrupted, and when he shifts his weight again, he can tell Finn’s hard. He rests his forehead against Finn’s shoulder silently for a few seconds, then asks, “Can we try something else?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, a little breathlessly. 

“Okay. I’m going to take your jeans off, okay?” 

Finn nods, then says, even more breathlessly, “Okay.”

Puck grins, fumbling a little with the zipper as he unfastens Finn’s jeans, then pushes them down past Finn’s knees. “Underwear okay, too?” Finn just nods this time, closing his eyes. “I’m taking off your underwear, not mine,” Puck teases, pulling Finn’s underwear down carefully. “Kick your pants off?” 

Finn kicks his jeans off, nudging them to the side with one foot. Puck takes half a step back, looking Finn up and down and trying to decide what he wants that’s more specific than ‘everything’. He wants Finn to feel good and to feel relaxed, and he takes a deep breath. 

“Can I blow you?” 

Finn’s breath catches. His eyes are still closed as he nods faintly. “You like to do that?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah. I want to. You want me to?” 

Finn nods. “Yeah. I do. I want you to.”

“Cool.” Puck pushes on Finn’s shoulders until he’s sitting on the bed, then nudges him to lie down before positioning himself with one leg between Finn’s as he kneels. “You’re still allowed to tell me no if you get uncomfortable, okay?” 

Finn nods again. This time, he opens his eyes to look down at Puck, giving him a small smile. “I’m okay, I think.”

“Okay. Good.” Puck shifts, leaning over and lapping at the tip of Finn’s dick, his hands on Finn’s hips as he listens to Finn. Finn sounds like he’s trying not to be too loud, or maybe like he’s trying not to make any noise at all. Puck nods a little and slides his lips around Finn, slowly moving them downward. One of Finn’s hands lightly touches the top of Puck’s head before moving away again. 

Puck tilts his head towards that side a bit as he takes more of Finn into his mouth, opening his mouth wider as he does. He looks up at Finn, meeting Finn’s eyes briefly and looking towards Finn’s hand before he moves his mouth again. Finn slowly lifts his hand, moving it to Puck’s head and resting it there. Puck nods slightly, moving his mouth faster on Finn’s dick and closing his eyes. 

Like he had when they were kissing, Puck tries to suspend his awareness of time, focusing on how Finn tastes and feels in his mouth, Finn’s hand on his head, and the small, quiet noises Finn is steadily making. He doesn’t think Finn will last forever, and most of him _hopes_ Finn won’t last too long. After what probably isn’t too long, Finn gets louder, and then Puck can feel Finn’s hand grabbing at his hair. Puck moves his mouth even faster, trying to encourage Finn. 

Finn’s noises get a little higher-pitched, and Puck makes out a quiet “Puck” before Finn is coming in his mouth, his hips jerking upward as he does. Puck keeps his mouth moving even after Finn finishes, waiting until he hears a final whimper before moving his mouth and kissing up Finn’s chest. 

“Hi,” Puck says with a grin. 

“Wow,” is all Finn says, lifting his head to meet Puck’s mouth with his. Puck keeps grinning as they kiss, then forces himself to look a little more serious as he pulls away and looks Finn over. 

“You okay?” 

Finn lets his head drop and looks up at Puck. “Yeah, just… like, overwhelmed, but in a good way.”

“You need to rest a little?” Puck offers. 

Finn shakes his head. “No, I want to…” He trails off, furrowing his brow. “Do something for you, too.” He reaches for Puck’s shoulders and pulls him up until he’s partially on top of Finn and they’re eye to eye again. Finn kisses Puck and tugs at the front of his jeans at the same time. 

“Yeah?” Puck says, unzipping his jeans and wiggling his hips a little. “What sounds good?” 

Finn pushes Puck’s jeans and Star Wars briefs down past Puck’s hips, then reaches between them to carefully wrap his hand around Puck’s dick. “Maybe like that?” Finn asks hesitantly.

Puck nods and smiles at Finn. “Yeah. That’s good.” 

Finn starts moving his hand, alternating between kissing Puck and resting his forehead against Puck’s. Puck suddenly feels overwhelmingly happy, even more than before, and he knows he probably looks almost ridiculous, grinning while they kiss. He barely moves his hips, pushing his dick down into Finn’s hands. Finn makes soft, encouraging noises as he strokes Puck’s dick slowly. 

“We’re good?” Puck says, half-statement and half-question.

“Yeah. Aren’t we?” Finn says. 

“Just checking in,” Puck says, then pauses. “But I do think ‘dude’ would be weird to call you in this situation.” 

Finn laughs and kisses Puck again before answering, “Probably, yeah.”

“Maybe I’ll come up with a ridiculous pet name for you,” Puck says, moving his hips a little faster. 

“Like what?” Finn asks. He moves his hand faster, in time with Puck’s hips. “Nothing with food in it.”

“Mmm, no.” Puck kisses Finn again as he thinks. “Kitten. Caribou. Guinea-pig.” 

“Caribou?”

“You like that one?” 

“No!”

“Kitten, then,” Puck says, laughing for a few seconds. Finn moves his hand faster.

“Maybe none of them,” Finn says. 

“I liked that one,” Puck says. He sticks his tongue out at Finn and then closes his eyes, dropping his forehead onto Finn’s again. “Pup.” 

“No to that one, too,” Finn says. “No baby animals.”

“But I like them,” Puck whines. He doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, feeling his dick sliding against Finn’s hand. “Mouse?” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” Finn says, kissing Puck again. 

“M’not.” Puck kisses Finn hard as he feels himself start to come, and keeps kissing Finn until he drops on top of him. “Robin? Swallow?” 

“No, that was my hand,” Finn says, then he starts to laugh. 

Puck snorts and pushes his head against Finn’s cheek. “Goose.” 

“Pigeon, like in _Lady and the Tramp_?”

“I really was going for one syllable,” Puck admits. “’Roo?” 

“If you don’t mind me calling you Rabbit. Or Piglet,” Finn says. 

“I have nothing in common with Piglet,” Puck says. “I’ll just have to keep thinking, I guess.” 

“You’re both full of bacon,” Finn points out. 

Puck laughs. “Yeah, yeah. In different forms. Sleepy?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “You?”

“Yeah. Chinchilla.” 

“Not that fuzzy.”

Puck runs his hand through Finn’s hair. “Maybe. Lemur? Bat?” 

“I’m going to sleep now,” Finn grumbles, halfheartedly grabbing the blanket and sheet to pull it back. 

“Bobcat? Fox? Mink?” Puck suggests, moving around until they get under the blanket and sheet. 

Finn mutters “mmph” and pulls Puck against him, wrapping his arms around him. Puck grins and kisses the part of Finn closest to him. 

“Good night, Finn.” Puck closes his eyes and listens to Finn’s breathing, feeling really good about the day and the date. He’d known even back in February that he was taking a risk, but it feels like a good risk from the other side. 

The rest of their time in Cincinnati is possibly even better than the game, since they spend more time walking around and talking, and once they’re back in Lima, everything feels different enough that Puck’s glad they took those first steps in a different place. It feels, Puck decides, like something of a fresh start, and they jump back into classes when summer session begins. They’re not rushing things, because they don’t have to. 

Kurt calls Finn periodically, so it doesn’t seem that weird when Finn stops studying one afternoon to answer a call from Kurt, and Puck idly half-listens to Finn’s side of the conversation. 

“Yeah, I’ve got Puck here with me,” Finn says into the phone, turning to smile at Puck as he listens to Kurt. “I’m already sitting down.”

“Why do you need to sit down?” Puck hisses. “Did Kurt get re-admitted to NYADA or something?” 

Finn shrugs and shakes his head. After another few seconds, he says, “What?” First he looks confused, then his eyes wide, and he repeats more loudly, “ _What?_ ”

“What is it?” Puck says. “Put it on speaker!” 

Finn looks pale as he sets the phone down and hits the speaker button. “Kurt, will you say that one more time,” he says, voice sounding strained. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I felt you should know, Finn,” Kurt says. “Rachel’s already about six months into the pregnancy.” 

Now Finn looks slightly green as well as pale. “You’re sure? I mean, she’s sure? About— She was seeing that Brody guy. I don’t—”

Puck can feel himself squinting at the phone and then at Finn, and he knows his mouth is hanging open, but it’s probably—probably—better to hear what Kurt has to say. He thinks. 

“The timing and the facts surrounding all of her, um. Activity? Make me think the probability that it’s yours is quite high. She’s not one hundred percent certain, but I would put money on it,” Kurt says. 

“What do I do?” Finn asks, directed his panicked look as much to Puck as to the phone. “What does she want me to do? What’s supposed to happen now?”

Puck gets up and stands behind Finn, his hands on Finn’s shoulders as he kisses the top of Finn’s head. “Shh,” he says softly. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

“She doesn’t want you to do anything. In fact, she wasn’t going to tell you,” Kurt says, sounding disapproving. “But I couldn’t— I thought you deserved to know. She’s allowed to make a decision for herself, of course, but since she’s carrying it to term, you needed to know.” 

“So I’ll need to send her some kind of child support or something, right?” Finn asks. He looks at Puck again. “Right, Puck? Child support?”

“I— I don’t know,” Puck admits. “Kurt?” 

Kurt doesn’t answer immediately, and he sighs before talking. “Right now, she keeps talking about finding an agency and having someone adopt the baby. That’s what I meant about her not telling you.” 

“She’s gonna have some strangers take it? She’s not even going to send it to her dads?” Finn asks. Puck winces, glad Finn can’t see his face. Adoption is not the panacea that Rachel might think it is, and if anyone can tell her that, it’d be Puck or Quinn. Adoption without telling Finn, though, sounds almost mean. 

“Like I said, you needed to know so you could make your own decisions,” Kurt says. “I wouldn’t advise contacting her directly, though.” 

Finn sighs loudly, nodding his head. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I’ll try to figure something out. Thank you for calling me and telling me, I guess?”

“I’ll send you anything I know, okay?” Kurt says. “And you can call or email me, of course.” 

“Okay. Yeah,” Finn says, his voice sounding very faint. 

“’Bye, Kurt,” Puck says, reaching over Finn to end the call. “Hey. Want to lie down for a minute?” 

“I want to lie down yesterday and not know this,” Finn says. “That’s an option, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Puck says softly. “I know. Come on. Lie down with me.” 

Finn lets Puck lead him to the bed, where they both lie down side by side, Finn sort of curled in on himself a little. Puck rubs Finn’s arm and his shoulders for a few minutes, waiting until he can feel a little less tension before he says anything else. 

“You’re allowed to be mad. Or cry. Or both. Or any other thing you’re feeling,” Puck says. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be doing something, or what I’m supposed to do if I _am_ supposed to be doing something. I mean, if she wants the baby to be adopted, there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?” Finn asks. 

Puck sighs and shakes his head. “No. That’s not actually how it works. It’s rightly her decision alone until the baby’s born, but once the baby’s here…” Puck trails off. “Technically both parents have rights and have to consent. It’s not required that the father agree to what the mother signs.” 

“So what does that mean? Do I go to New York and wait for her to have the baby?”

“If you want to have a say, you probably need some kind of legal paperwork,” Puck says, feeling almost apologetic for not knowing all of the answers right away. “I think maybe we should call your mom.” 

Finn nods, scooting closer to Puck and kind of burrowing his face into Puck’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad I don’t have to figure this out all alone.”

“You don’t. You want me to call?” 

Finn nods again. “Yeah. She’s gonna freak and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of it. Tomorrow. Today I’ll just take care of you. Deal?” 

“Deal.”


	3. Embracing the Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But we’re not talking about a random baby. We’re talking about _your_ baby.

“Okay, I think I’ve put it off as late as I can, Caribou,” Puck says with a small grin. “I’m going to call your mom now.” 

“Can’t we give it just one more day?” Finn asks. 

“It’s like a Band-aid, it’ll be harder the longer we wait.” 

“Okay,” Finn says, sighing. “Do I have to be in the room?”

“Yeah. Probably you should listen on speaker, okay?” 

Finn sighs again, and tries to give Puck sad puppy eyes. “Or you could just get me if she had questions.”

“Don’t do that to me,” Puck says, frowning at Finn. “I have to do this and I have to make you stay in the room.” 

“Okay. I’m sorry. I just really don’t want either of us to have to do this,” Finn says. 

“Hey. I know. It’s okay,” Puck says, and he sits down beside Finn, pressing their legs together and taking Finn’s hand in his before he starts the call to Carole. When Carole answers, Puck looks apologetically at Finn and then puts the call on speaker. “Hi, Carole.” 

“Noah?” Carole says, sounding confused. “Are you and Finn alright?” 

“We’re safe and healthy,” Puck says. “We do need to talk to you about something, though.” Puck looks at Finn and raising an eyebrow. Finn nods, more than a little reluctantly, even though he knows that Puck is completely right about this having to be done. 

“Okay. Let me close the door,” Carole says, and there’s a pause before she continues. “Okay. Go ahead.” 

“There’s a lot of secondhand communication here in this story, but it’s all accurate,” Puck starts. “Kurt called Finn yesterday, and it turns out, um. Rachel’s about six months pregnant. It’s— Kurt’s almost certain it’s Finn’s.” 

Carole gasps. “Oh my— are you sure? Oh, you just said Kurt was! What is Rachel going to do? Did she have Kurt call?” 

“No, Kurt called on his own,” Puck says. “He says Rachel just wants to find an agency and have the baby adopted, but I told Finn that, you know. He has some input, after the baby’s born.” 

“Oh. Oh, of course she’d consider adoption. And yes. Finn does.” Carole takes a few audible deep breaths. “Is Finn there?” 

Puck nudges Finn’s side gently and squeezes his hand. Finn gives Puck one more extra-sad puppy look before he sighs quietly. 

“Yeah, I’m here, Mom,” Finn says. “Sorry.”

“You’ve had a lot to take in, I suppose, but do you know what _you_ want to do?” Carole asks, sounding almost business-like. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a thing I _should_ , or I should _want_ to do, or what,” Finn says. 

“You’re going to need to decide relatively quickly, in case your desires differ from Rachel’s.” Carole sighs again. “How on earth, Finn? _When_ were you even in the same city as her, and why on _earth_ did you not use protection?” 

“She was here for Mr. Schuester’s wedding. Non-wedding,” Finn says. “And we _did_ , Mom, geez! Rachel’s on birth control! Or, she was, I guess. She probably isn’t still taking that.”

“Clearly not effective birth control!” Carole says. “Noah, how are you handling this?” 

“I’m just here for Finn,” Puck says calmly, squeezing Finn’s hand again. 

“Well, that’s good. Finn, I’m going to check in with you again tomorrow or the next day, after I do some research. You need to start thinking about what you want to do. Understood?” 

“I am, Mom. I will. I’m going to think really hard about it, trust me.”

“I can’t believe this,” Carole says, and it sounds like she sniffs a time or two. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions, but I’ll send you a message.” 

“Thanks, Carole,” Puck says. “You can send it to either of us.” 

“Love you, Mom,” Finn says. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“What’s done is done,” Carole says with another sniff. “I love you, too. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

“Bye, Carole,” Puck says, then ends the call, tossing his phone beside him and turning to Finn. “Hey. Okay?” He releases Finn’s hand and puts both arms around Finn. 

“I think she’s really mad,” Finn says, pulling Puck against him. 

“Probably she’s really surprised,” Puck says gently. “I mean, the one call she probably thought she _wouldn’t_ get after you told her about us just happened anyway.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I still don’t know what to do. I mean, it’s not like I can really take the baby, right? I don’t have anyplace to put a baby, and I don’t even know if they’d _let_ me take the baby. I don’t think they let just let anybody take a baby home with them.”

“If you’re the dad, you can take the baby anywhere you want,” Puck says. “And if you wanted to take the baby, I guess we’d have to get an apartment, not stay in the dorm.” 

“Do you even _want_ a baby, though?” Finn asks. 

“A random baby? Probably not,” Puck says with a short laugh. “But we’re not talking about a random baby. We’re talking about _your_ baby.” 

“What would we even do with a baby? Where would we put it? How would we even take care of it?” Finn says. “We still eat pizza or ramen like four or five days a week!”

“Yeah, but babies don’t eat solid food at first, so that’s okay,” Puck says. “I mean, if you don’t want to keep the baby, there’s no point in trying to figure all of that out, but if you do, or if you think you might, we can figure it out. I promise. Like, we’d hold the baby and sing to it a lot and get it one of those baby gyms like Rebekah had when she was a baby, remember?” 

“With the little dangly jungle animals?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah, with the animals to chew on. Baby pull-ups,” Puck says. “So should we figure out some of these answers, or do you want to let Rachel go ahead with her plan? I know it feels like you’re having to think too fast, ’cause you kind of are.” 

“Mom said she was gonna research. Maybe we should let her research, just to make sure we don’t get our hopes up or anything.”

“Hey, Caribou?” Puck says gently. 

“I’m not a caribou. I’m a reindeer,” Finn says. 

“You’re a majestic caribou, but that’s not the point. You answered my question whether you realized it or not.” 

“Yeah? How’d I do that?”

“‘Hopes up’?” Puck says. 

Finn shrugs. “Having a baby doesn’t sound like the worst thing. Not if it’s with you.”

“At least I know you’d have to keep me around,” Puck says teasingly. 

“Yeah, totally the only reason,” Finn says, teasing back at first, then suddenly feeling serious again. “But what if we can’t? What if there’s laws or something that says we can’t keep it? Or what if Rachel really doesn’t want us to?”

“She could go to court, I guess, and fight it, but if you’re definitely the baby’s dad, the court would still let you have the baby, you know? They’d be glad one of the baby’s parents wanted to raise it and all of that.” Puck pauses. “It’s weird we don’t know what sex it is. Anyway, I mean, why would there be a law?” 

Finn shrugs. “All I really know about adoption is Beth, and that seemed like it happened really fast.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really have all of the information,” Puck says. “Or any information, possibly, in retrospect. But you’re not adopting your own baby.” 

“Even if I’m not married to Rachel?”

“Oh my God, you cannot marry her,” Puck says, sounding alarmed. “No, it’s just your baby. Biology.” 

“I’m not gonna marry her! I was just saying, I didn’t know if it counted and I just got to keep the baby if we weren’t married,” Finn says. “How do they even know it’s mine? Do I have to go to New York to do babydaddy testing?”

“Probably not. Just your blood or your hair or one of those swabs like on the CSI shows,” Puck says. “Maybe that’s one of the things your mom’s researching. If the testing confirms it’s your baby, yeah, you can just keep the baby.” 

“So, is that what we’re doing? Keeping the baby?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah, if that’s what you want. And I think it is, from what you’re saying.” 

“It is if you want it to be. If you think it would be weird, then I don’t have to. I know we haven’t been together-together too long, and asking you to help me keep a baby is a _lot_ to ask.”

“I’m not going to keep you from keeping your baby if you want to,” Puck says. “And it’d more or less be our baby, yeah? I mean, not legally, but otherwise.” 

“And maybe someday legally, too,” Finn says. “Okay. Okay, if Mom can figure out how we do it, then we should do it.”

“Okay.” Puck kisses the side of Finn’s face. “We’ll figure it all out. I promise.” 

“I believe you. If you say we will, we will,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs a little. “Where do you think we should start? Apartment or baby gyms?” 

“Probably apartments.” Finn is quiet for a few seconds, then adds, “But we could maybe buy some little hats or something.”

“Yeah.” Puck grins. “Maybe a couple of bibs, too.” 

Finn tries to do a little research of his own over the next few days, but the laws in Ohio and New York are really different in certain areas, so he’s not sure which parts of which laws apply to him and the baby. Puck looks at the laws, too, but Finn can tell it’s hard for Puck, probably because of the whole Beth thing, so instead Finn asks him if he can be in charge of looking for apartments for just in case. 

They don’t hear from Carole for a few days, which is probably for the best, but when she does call, Finn immediately answers and puts the call on speaker. “Hi, Mom.”

“Do you have some time to talk?” Carole asks. 

“I’ve got a little homework, but nothing that can’t wait,” Finn says, looking at Puck. “Puck?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Puck says. 

“Well, Finn, I’ve done some research, so I suppose the first thing to clarify is what exactly you want to do. I’ve been researching for the contingency that you’d rather not have Rachel have the baby adopted.” 

“Puck and I have talked about it, and we’re sure we want the baby to come to us, not be adopted to anybody else,” Finn says. 

“Okay.” Carole pauses for a moment. “I’ve spoken with Rachel’s dads, and I think what’s really best is a face to face meeting, with them acting and speaking for Rachel. There’s not a legal reason you couldn’t have custody, of course, but it would be far better if everything is worked out privately and smoothly ahead of time.” 

“But I don’t really want to talk to Rachel’s dads, Mom. You know how they are!”

“I know Hiram can be a bit over the top, and even LeRoy can be overwhelming, but I do think it’s the best way to iron things out as quickly as possible. There’s a lot of preparation that you’ll need to do and I think it’s best for everyone that there’s not a lot of uncertainty,” Carole says. 

“Yeah, we’re already on some of that,” Puck says. “The preparation stuff.” 

“Well, that’s good, I suppose,” Carole says, sounding surprised. 

“What if it’s a trick, though, Mom?” Finn asks. “What if they’re going to try to talk me into signing adoption stuff? Or what if _they_ want to take the baby?”

“Don’t sign anything,” Puck says. “We won’t even take a pen. And we definitely won’t let them take the baby.” 

“Their claim to the baby would be less strong than yours, legally, and I genuinely don’t think they want to raise another child,” Carole says. 

“But they’re weird, and they think everything Rachel does is perfect, so they _might_ ,” Finn insists. 

“Yeah, but the baby isn’t just Rachel, so we can talk that up,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s side and grinning. 

“I genuinely don’t think they want the baby, Finn, but regardless, we’ll make sure nothing is signed when we meet with them, okay?” Carole says. 

“Okay,” Finn sighs. “When and where?”

“They wanted to meet at their house, but I felt neutral ground would be best, so I reserved a room at the public library on Saturday afternoon,” Carole says. “It’s downtown, if you don’t remember where it is.” 

“I know where the library is, Mom. I’ve kinda lived in Lima my whole life,” Finn says. 

“I know that you haven’t been regularly since you stopped doing the summer reading program, is all,” Carole says. 

“We’ll find the library, Carole. And not bring any pens. We don’t have to have a current library card, right?” Puck asks. 

“No, Noah, though it wouldn’t hurt either one of you.” 

“We can use the college library now,” Finn says. “We have plenty of library, okay? Geez.”

“I hardly think the college library has _Goodnight, Moon_ ,” Carole says. 

“We can probably buy _Goodnight, Moon_ ,” Finn says. 

“Maybe I should start making a list. _Goodnight, Moon_ , baby gym, bibs, hats,” Puck says. “Diapers, too.” 

Carole sounds like she’s trying to laugh for a moment. “That’s quite a list, yes.”

“Probably a baby bed, too,” Finn says. “Babies need special beds, right?”

“You’d think that, but there are apparently intense debates about it,” Puck says. “I Googled ‘things not to get for baby’ and it was downhill from there.” 

“Why would people debate about baby beds? That doesn’t make any sense,” Finn says. 

“Some people keep the baby in their bed or beside their bed, I guess,” Puck says. 

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to discover the world of parenting debates,” Carole says almost brightly. “I’ll see you Saturday at 1:30.” 

“Okay,” Finn says. “Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, boys.” 

When the call ends, Puck looks at Finn. “I mean it, we won’t even take a pen.” 

“Maybe they’re trying to talk Rachel into keeping it,” Finn says. “That could be okay, too, right? I’d still be able to visit the baby.”

Puck looks conflicted for nearly a minute before he answers. “Do you really think Rachel in New York would be a better parent than you and I would be here?” 

“I don’t think she’d be the _worst_ parent,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, and that’s nice of you and everything, but you _know_ Rachel. So do I. If they talked her into it, it wouldn’t be what she wanted, or what was best, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, letting his shoulders droop. “I feel sad for her. I feel sad that she’s pregnant and doesn’t want to be, and that she has to figure out what to do with the baby, and I feel sad that things aren’t easier.”

“She’ll be okay, though. Look at it this way: you really are helping her by making sure her dads don’t talk her into keeping it.” 

Finn thinks about that for a moment, then decides Puck’s definitely right about that one. “Yeah. That would really suck for everybody.”

“So probably what you should do before Saturday is write down exactly what, like, is non-negotiable for you, so that’s clear to everyone,” Puck says. “Like I’m pretty sure we want to make sure some weird joint custody or long visitations get ruled out.” 

“But Rachel should be able to see the baby if she wants to, though,” Finn says. “Maybe just not take it away for a week or something.”

“Exactly. It’s just good if we have a plan.” 

“Yeah. We’ll write it all down so we’re ready and Rachel’s dads can’t try to confuse me,” Finn says. 

“And then we’ll go buy one of those hats off the list,” Puck says as he nods. 

On Friday afternoon, Puck announces that they’re going out for the evening. “And then we’ll come back home and have some fun and _not_ think, okay?” he adds. 

“Okay,” Finn says. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I ruled out the sex toy shop up I–75, so maybe some place with some music?” Puck says, running his hands over Finn’s arms and kissing the back of Finn’s neck. Finn relaxes his shoulders and lets his head fall forward, closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of Puck’s lips.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs and keeps kissing Finn’s neck. “Or do you want to just stay here, huh?” 

“We could just stay here,” Finn agrees. “We can go out tomorrow night instead.”

“I bet you’re going to say that tomorrow night, too.” Puck turns Finn’s face towards him, bringing their mouths together. “Aren’t you?” 

“Probably.”

“You know what’s going to happen if you keep saying that, right?” 

“We get to stay in every night?” Finn guesses. “We never have to go out ever?”

“Word might get around that you’re a cheap date,” Puck says. He kisses Finn again, running his hand through Finn’s hair. “I might have to keep people from trying to steal you away.” 

“Yeah, I bet they’d start lining up, especially once they hear about the baby thing,” Finn says. He puts his arms around Puck and squeezes him. Puck squirms a little and sticks out his tongue. 

“You underestimate your own appeal and all that,” Puck says. “You really want to stay in tonight?” 

Finn nods. “Yeah. Going out feels like a distraction. This feels real.”

“Okay.” Puck nods and leans against Finn with his next kiss. “We’re definitely real, and we’ll stay in tonight.” 

Despite Puck’s best effort, Finn still doesn’t sleep well that night, and he wakes up too early on Saturday morning, turning a list of baby-related thoughts over and over in his head. What if the Berrys don’t want to help? What if they _do_ want to help? What if Finn just convinces Puck they should drive the motorcycle to the Canadian border and disappear? All of these seem like perfectly reasonable outcomes.

When Puck wakes up, the two of them compare their actual lists of topics to discuss with the Berrys. Puck’s list trends more towards things Finn should _tell_ the Berrys, vs. Finn’s list, which is a little less demanding and a little more panicked and obsessed with tiny details. Puck points out that some of Finn’s points aren’t necessarily important to bring up in a first meeting. He specifically indicates point #33, which is “What foods was Rachel allergic to as a baby so that I don’t ever feed them to the baby?”

“You can make a long-ass health questionnaire for them to fill out later,” Puck says. “Even ask them for copies of Rachel’s growth charts or something. Just not today.” 

“Don’t I need to be prepared, though?” Finn asks. “What if we buy the wrong kind of formula?”

“They’ll send the baby home from the hospital with formula. I promise, the baby’s not going to be hurt if you don’t ask about allergies today. Okay?” 

Finn nods. “Do you think they’ll agree to all the stuff on your list?”

“I might’ve been pushing it a little with the stuff at the end about what the baby’s allowed to call them,” Puck admits. “But it makes the rest of my list look more reasonable.” 

“Yeah. I won’t let the baby call them something stupid, though,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs. “Well, the baby’s already smarter than they are, right?” 

“I hope so!” Finn says, then he sighs. “Oh man, I have to worry about making sure the baby’s smart. There’s just so much stuff to worry about.”

“Let’s take it like three to six months at a time. Car seat, diapers, hold the baby, sing to the baby, read to the baby. Deal?” 

Finn nods. “I’m just trying not to completely panic. I feel like panicking.”

“Panic over the fact that we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, which makes it harder to pick out a name?” Puck says. 

“I hadn’t even thought about panicking about that one yet!” Finn says. “Now I have to panic about that, too!”

“Instead of, not also!” Puck says. “Do you think she knows?” 

“Do you think she’d tell me if she did?” Finn counters. 

“I think we should ask, is all I’m saying.” Puck rubs the back of Finn’s neck. “Want to go ahead and go? Be there first and everything?” 

“Like Coach Beiste taught us, huh? Show up early to establish dominance?” Finn asks, laughing a little and relaxing under Puck’s hand. 

“She wasn’t wrong, and we could totally take them in a fight,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, we could.”

“There’s your backup plan,” Puck says. “We can tell Rachel to sign over the baby or else her dads get a beat down.” 

“Probably they’ll call the cops if we try that tactic, though,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs again. “You know why Rachel always threatened people with being sued? Because her dad hates the idea of calling the cops. He thinks it’s tacky or something. Seriously, if we get there early and drop the key words of ‘legal rights’, they may just fold right away.” 

“Yeah. Let’s get there and set up. Should I wear something specific? Like, fatherly or something?” Finn feels his breath catch, because saying the f-word out loud just feels weird. 

Puck keeps rubbing Finn’s neck. “You have to wait to get the ugly ties. Don’t try to jump ahead,” he says lightly. “You’re fine. We’re fine.” 

“You’re sure?” Finn asks. He knows Puck understands he means more than just being sure about being fine. 

“I’m really, totally sure. Promise.” 

“Okay,” Finn says. “I’m probably gonna keep on asking for a while. That okay, too?”

“Yeah, that’s okay, too, Caribou,” Puck says. “It’s really fine.” 

“Let’s get going, then,” Finn says. 

They do get going, making it to the library almost forty-five minutes before the agreed-on time, which turns out to be good timing, since the Berrys arrive maybe five minutes behind them. 

“You’re early,” Puck says, somehow managing to make it sound like the Berrys have crossed a line, even though Puck and Finn were early too. “We’ll wait on Carole before we start, of course.” Puck offers his hand to both of the Berrys. 

LeRoy nods as he shakes Puck’s hand, but Hiram says, “No reason why we can’t start some casual conversation about this. I know we all want what’s in the baby’s best interests.”

“Don’t say anything,” Puck says under his breath to Finn as he shakes his head. “The only casual conversation we can have is about the weather.” 

Finn nods. Hiram looks like he’s about to argue, but LeRoy puts a hand on his arm. Something between the two of them looks strained. Hiram huffs and stays quiet. Carole arrives five minutes before the meeting was supposed to start with a woman Finn’s never met, and she looks almost exasperated at the four of them already there. 

“Finn, this is your lawyer,” Carole says quietly. 

“Uh, hi?” Finn says, holding his hand out to the lawyer, who shakes it briskly. 

“Kelly Beitzel,” she says. “I hope you haven’t said anything binding?” 

Finn shakes his head. “No. Puck made sure.”

Puck nods at the lawyer. “Good you’re here. These are the Berrys.” The lawyer nods, and then Carole continues. 

“Let’s begin with the outcomes each of you are looking for?” Carole suggests. 

“So, Kurt says Rachel for sure doesn’t want to keep the baby,” Finn says, “but I do. Whatever I have to do to prove it’s mine, I’ll do it. I just want the baby to come live with me.”

The lawyer nods. “I have preliminary paperwork for that. And the two of you?” she asks the Berrys. 

“We’re not so sure that Finn—and I mean no offense, Finn—is really at the best stage in his life to be raising a child,” Hiram says. “Wouldn’t it be better if LeRoy and I stepped in at this point, provided some room for Rachel and Finn to both figure things out?”

“Figure what out?” Finn asks. 

“And what exactly are you trying to get Rachel to figure out?” Puck adds. “She seemed pretty clear she didn’t want to keep the baby. That’d be a crappy thing to do to her.” 

“She’s in a state of shock right now,” Hiram says. “She isn’t making rational decisions.”

“Is it just me, or does that sound really sexist?” Puck asks, looking at Carole and the lawyer. Carole winces a little but doesn’t respond, and the lawyer shrugs a little. “I really hope you two aren’t calling her and trying to get her to change her mind.” 

LeRoy looks at Puck and then at Finn. “What exactly is your interest here, Noah?” 

“He’s with me,” Finn says. 

“Yes, we saw him arrive with you, but that doesn’t explain his interest,” LeRoy says. 

“ _With_ him,” Puck says. “Together.” 

“Like roommates?” Hiram asks. “Or like something else?”

“Like share a bedroom,” Puck says, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh!” LeRoy says. “Well, that’s an interesting wrinkle, isn’t it, Hiram?” 

“Does Rachel know about this?” Hiram asks.

“I don’t know what Rachel knows,” Finn says. “I haven’t talked to her. I haven’t talked to her at all. Kurt said I shouldn’t.”

“And I think Kurt was probably correct,” Carole says. “I hardly think Finn and Noah’s relationship has any real bearing on the outcome of this meeting. Hiram, you never did address exactly what you thought Finn or Rachel needed to ‘figure out’. Could you explain that?” 

“I just think we should leave some wiggle room for if the two of them decide they’d both like to be involved in raising the baby. Together.” Hiram glances over at LeRoy. LeRoy nods. 

“Exactly. They’re both young and we wouldn’t want hasty decisions to—” 

“A baby’s not a matchmaking service,” Puck interrupts. 

“But it’s not like Finn and Rachel are total strangers. This wasn’t a, uh. A ships passing in the night sort of thing,” Hiram says. “They were together for most of high school. Their relationship didn’t, to my knowledge, end under bad terms.”

“Sneaking out of a hotel room and intending to never tell Finn about the baby are totally foundations for a relationship built on trust,” Puck says with a snort. “Finn, do you want the Berrys to have the baby?” 

Finn shakes his head rapidly. “No. And I don’t want to just have the baby, or have anybody have the baby, temporarily until Rachel maybe changes her mind, which I _really_ don’t think she’s gonna do. Rachel usually knows what she wants. If she says she doesn’t wanna do this, she probably means it.”

“I have to agree with Finn about Rachel knowing what she wants,” Puck says with a nod. “Have the two of you even mentioned your hare-brained idea to her? If you did, what did she say?” 

“Of course we did. Or we tried,” LeRoy says, glancing at Hiram. 

Hiram shifts in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “We tried to express our willingness to help her keep her options open.”

Puck leans over to whisper to Finn. “I think that’s code for Rachel either didn’t take it seriously or told them no.” 

“Look, me and Puck both did a lot of reading, and as long as I can prove the baby’s mine, if Rachel doesn’t want to raise it, then that means I get to,” Finn says. “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, other than how I prove it and how the baby gets here, right?”

“Legally speaking, you’re correct,” the lawyer says. “The Berrys could theoretically mount a legal challenge, but if they came to me and I were not otherwise retained to represent your interests, I would advise them against such a challenge.” 

“We don’t want Finn to have to travel to New York, and we’ll want a signed custody agreement before the birth, I think,” Puck says firmly. 

“And Rachel can visit when she’s ready, but she can’t take the baby away,” Finn adds. “She can’t do that.”

Puck mutters something so quietly that even Finn can’t understand what he says, and then he nods. Carole looks at the lawyer and Hiram and LeRoy with a questioning look. “Well? Do we have some agreement?” 

Hiram frowns. “Maybe we should take a little time and—”

“Hiram and I would like to be able to develop a grandfatherly relationship with the baby over time,” LeRoy says. “Not a formal addendum to any custody agreement, but a gentlemen’s agreement, perhaps?” 

Finn looks at Puck. “Like we talked about, right? No overnights?”

“And no driving the baby anywhere,” Puck says he nods. 

Hiram slouches in his seat, which kind of makes him look like an oversized, pissy toddler, but he doesn’t argue. Carole glances briefly at Hiram and shakes her head a little. “I’m sure all of those particulars can be worked out after the legal matters,” she says. “Hiram, LeRoy, did the two of you want to serve as a messenger for the legal paperwork, or should Ms. Beitzel contact her directly?” 

“I think direct contact will be fine,” LeRoy says. “Don’t you, Hiram?” 

Hiram waves one hand dismissively. “If that’s what everybody else wants.”

“It’ll be easier on Kurt, too,” Puck says, “if all communication is through legal channels.” He turns sideways in his chair, facing Finn. “Anything else you think needs to be brought up?” he asks Finn quietly. 

Finn shakes his head. “Just tell me what I need to do to prove the baby’s mine, and we’ll go from there.”

Puck nods and then looks at Hiram and LeRoy. “Thanks for coming,” he says, inclining his head towards the door. LeRoy doesn’t look all that surprised, just stands up and stretches beside Hiram’s chair. Hiram appears to give brief consideration to glaring at Puck, but must realize that’s a dumb idea, because after a few seconds of eye contact, he stands up and follows LeRoy from the room, both of them shaking hands with the lawyer on the way out. 

“That was only moderately uncomfortable, right?” Carole says as the door closes. 

Puck snorts. “So what does Finn need to do now?” he asks the lawyer, putting his hand on Finn’s leg. “You good?” he says to Finn. Finn nods, since that’s about all he still has the energy for.

“I have the contact information for Miss Berry, and I’ll initiate contact,” the lawyer says. “I’ll contact Finn about DNA testing within a few weeks, and hopefully, Miss Berry will be willing to sign the paperwork without long or drawn-out negotiation.”

“Can Finn have her or her dads fill out a health questionnaire?” Puck asks. 

“That seems reasonable,” the lawyer says, making a note. “Finn, do you have any further questions?” 

“If Rachel signs everything, will you tell her thank you for me?” Finn asks. 

“Of course.” The lawyer puts a few things away and then turns to Carole. “Let me clarify a few things with you, financial details?” she asks, and she and Carole leave the room. 

“We can even send her a gift if you want to,” Puck says to Finn. 

“I should have asked if she wanted pictures,” Finn says. “Should I get the lawyer and have her ask?”

“I think that’s one of those things that doesn’t have to be in a legal document. We can put pictures on a Facebook group and she can join it or go look if and when she wants to, you know?” Puck says. “I think she’s probably just going to be relieved if this makes her dads stop pushing.” 

“This is weird,” Finn says.

Puck laughs for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s a little weird. You want to embrace the weird or try to ignore it for the rest of the day?” 

“What does embracing the weird look like?”

“Baby-shopping for today,” Puck says. “We can go over to Fort Wayne and check out the Babies R Us.” 

“Can we eat dinner and maybe see a movie after?” Finn asks. 

“We could go see _Pacific Rim_ ,” Puck says. “That’s probably a nice weird combination with Babies R Us.” 

“I think that’s one of those things we learned about in English. Metaphors,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, probably so,” Puck says. He leans in to kiss Finn. “We should try to sneak out while your mom is still talking to the lawyer.” 

“Does this library even have a back door?”

“There’s a side door facing Market, remember?” Puck says. “Then we just have to make sure she doesn’t notice us driving away.” 

Finn grins at Puck. “On the count of three?”


	4. The Transporter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My brother can’t fly out of Ohio. After the baby’s here, can you give me a crash course in transporting a baby?

By the time Rachel hits thirty-five weeks, Kurt feels somewhat guilty about hoping that his niece or nephew will be born early. Rachel does not enjoy pregnancy, and Kurt feels like some of her behavior is a result of how sympathetic he and Santana are. Still, he can’t begrudge her the resentment she must feel, so he continues to fetch obscure food at all hours and rub her feet. He has his part to play, both during the pregnancy and birth and within the hours and days afterwards, and if he can keep it together for just a little longer, everyone’s lives will be far smoother well before the end of the calendar year. 

If Kurt’s feeling impatient and a little overwhelmed, though, he can’t even begin to imagine what Finn—and Puck—must be going through, which is why he deliberately calls every Sunday evening, in addition to any conversations, texts, and other messages throughout the week. He does usually leave the loft or make sure Rachel is planning to be out, and this week, he goes down the street to a small deli before calling. 

It rings a little longer than usual, and when Puck picks up with a somewhat-amused sounding “Hey, Kurt,” Kurt can hear Finn swearing in the background. “Hang on, I’ll get Finn.” 

“Okay,” Kurt says, wondering what exactly is inspiring Finn to sound so frustrated. 

Finn sounds slightly out of breath when he answers. “Hey Kurt.”

“What on earth were you swearing about?” Kurt asks. 

“The swing.”

“Couldn’t Puck help?” 

“I can assemble the swing myself!” Finn says, much louder than is necessary. “I don’t need someone to help me! I’m gonna be a dad, and I’m perfectly capable of putting a damn swing together!” Kurt can hear a loud click in the background, then Finn must put his hand over the mouthpiece, because his shout of “Puck! I said _don’t_ put that together!” is somewhat muffled. 

“You can prewash _all_ of the laundry yourself, okay?” Puck says. 

“I take it this is not a new conversation?” Kurt asks. 

“It’s not the same!” Finn muffle-shouts at Puck. “No, it’s not new,” he says to Kurt.

“Isn’t the important thing that it’s assembled? Rather than how, precisely, it was assembled?” Kurt asks. “And laundry seems important!” 

“I’m perfectly capable of—”

“Of course you are,” Kurt says. “But there’s no reason not to be efficient. How are classes going?” 

“Good. I hope. I think,” Finn says. “Honestly, I’m taking so many of them right now, mostly I just do good to get everything turned in.”

“If you’re turning everything in, that’s probably doing well?” Kurt guesses. “And swing and laundry aside, you feel relatively prepared?” 

Finn laughs. The laugh sounds vaguely crazed. “Oh, you know. Prepared as I can, I guess.”

“And how’s Puck?” Kurt asks, mentally adding “aside from finishing assembly for you.” 

“He’s handling it all really great,” Finn says. “Better than me.”

“Is it anything specific or are you just… mentally not quite there?” Kurt asks. “Because you know you’re going to have plenty of support.” 

Finn sighs. “I don’t know. I know I’ve got support. I’ve got Puck and Mom and Burt and you. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be a _dad_.”

“You know that Dad and I haven’t always been as close. I remember I used to think it was good I was gay, because at least I didn’t have to figure it out,” Kurt says, holding back a snort of amusement at his younger self. “But then I realized that really I’d just… want to be the dad that I would have wanted when I was younger, you know?” 

“Can I do that, though? Can I be that kind of dad?” Finn asks. 

“I suspect so, though I don’t know exactly what you would have wanted,” Kurt says. “Really, if the baby knows you love him or her regardless of anything else, isn’t that what you’re aiming for?” 

“I think that’s probably the easiest part,” Finn says. “Babies are easy to love.”

“See?” Kurt says, maybe a little too brightly, but he hopes Finn won’t notice. “Do you have any names picked out?” 

“We’re working on a list. Well, two lists.”

“No agreement yet on a girl’s name or a boy’s name?” 

“Oh. No, all the names are probably good for both,” Finn says. “One list has the names we can tell people and they’ll think they’re nice. The other list is the names we won’t tell people ahead of time, so then when we name the baby one of them, they can’t criticize it.”

Kurt stifles a laugh. “Can you give me an example from the first list?” 

“London.”

“Oh, I like that,” Kurt says. 

“We also have Aspen and Raleigh,” Finn says.

“Finn, are they _all_ the names of cities? Did you just write down all the gender-neutral city names?” 

“Maaaaaaybe,” Finn admits. “Why? Is that list not believable?”

“Perhaps only tell people one or two names from that list at a time. I take it that you’re more likely to select from the other list?” 

“Yeah. We have a few we really like. Just have to see what the baby looks like,” Finn says. 

“I’m personally hoping for both large and Jewish, as opposed to, say, small and non-Jewish. Gentile. Is that the word? You can ask Puck.” 

“I hope the baby’s not too big, for Rachel’s sake,” Finn says. “She needs it to be smallish, probably.”

“Baby fat squishes!” Puck says in the background. “I read that online!” 

“Well, there you go,” Kurt says. “Large will be fine then, apparently.” 

“But if it’s too big, it won’t fit into the clothes!” Finn says loudly, obviously directing it at Puck. 

“We didn’t buy preemie size!” Puck calls back. 

“Is there anything you immediately agree on?” Kurt asks. 

“We both like the names,” Finn says. “Which means they’re all awesome.”

“I promise I’ll tell everyone I love the name, regardless of how much you’ve gotten me concerned,” Kurt says. “Deal?” 

“Yeah. Thank you, Kurt. For all of the stuff you’re doing,” Finn says. 

“You’re welcome. Just remind Puck to tell Jake that _I_ am the baby’s favorite uncle?” 

Finn laughs. “Well, duh, obviously. You’ll always be its favorite because you’ll be there when it’s born. He’s born. She’s born? It’s weird to not know.”

“It is a bit, yes. I’ll talk to you next Sunday?” 

“Okay. Take care of our baby, and tell Rachel we hope her feet feel better,” Finn says. “I saw on Facebook they were swollen.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure I’ll be rubbing her feet later,” Kurt says. “Try to relax about the assembling?” 

“Yeah, I’ll— oh. I think he finished it.”

“You’re welcome, Caribou,” Puck says in the distance. 

“Caribou?” Kurt asks. 

“Boo with two Os,” Finn says. “He doesn’t know I know that, but I know it. I’m his Cari-boo.”

“Oh.” Kurt starts to press his lips together, then remembers that Finn can’t see if he’s smiling. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening, and have a good week of classes.” 

“Yeah, you, too,” Finn says. 

Kurt ends the call and decides to eat in the deli before heading back to the loft and his inevitable foot-rub duty. What Kurt does not anticipate is calling Finn again before the next Sunday night, but on Thursday, Kurt’s plans for the day are derailed by his niece or nephew. 

“Kurt?” Rachel says quietly, pulling back the curtain around his bed. 

“Do you need me to go pick something up?” Kurt asks as he sits up. 

“I think we might need to go to the hospital,” she says, still very quiet. 

“Already?” Kurt says, feeling alarmed. “You’re only thirty-six weeks!” Rachel nods, but before she can say anything, her face scrunches up and she grabs ahold of the curtain with both hands. “Are you having a contraction right now?” Rachel nods again. The contraction seems to go on for quite a long time. Kurt winces internally and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Okay. I’ll get dressed and we’ll leave?” He grabs a pair of pants without looking at Rachel, then pulls on a sweatshirt and rummages for a pair of shoes as he walks out of his curtained area and into the main area. 

Kurt grabs the bag that Rachel has already packed, as well as the bag he had packed a few days earlier, not thinking that he’d need it for weeks. Rachel clings to the curtain through at least one more contraction. The cab ride to the hospital is one of the more nerve wracking experiences of Kurt’s life, though the triage process is daunting in its own way. Rachel doesn’t scream the way Kurt expected. Instead, she’s very very quiet, which is odd in addition to making it a little harder for Kurt to gauge exactly when a contraction is happening. 

After they’ve been in the room for what feels like forever, but Kurt’s watch insists is just over an hour, Kurt frowns at Rachel as a contraction ends. “Isn’t your water supposed to break when you’re as far along as they said?” 

“Oh,” Rachel says softly. “It broke in the bathroom before I told you it was time to go.”

“Rachel,” Kurt says, shaking his head and feeling unsurprised. He knows he needs to pull away and call Finn, but all he can manage between contractions is a short text that says “R in labor.” 

When he checks his phone again—supposedly only twenty minutes later—Finn has responded, “Toledo airport shut down for snow. Checking Columbus,” then another text several minutes later that says, “No flights. Call me!”

Kurt winces and looks at Rachel, who is leaning on the on-call midwife, and he makes the decision to step out into the hall without telling Rachel. He walks down three doors to a small waiting area and calls Finn. 

“No flights?” he says as soon as Finn answers. 

“Everything they had out of Columbus and Cincinnati is completely booked,” Finn says. “They said it could be a few days before they’d have a seat. I’m gonna have to drive out there, but I don’t know how long it’ll take. It’s snowing pretty heavy here still.”

Kurt frowns, looking up and down the hall as if an answer’s going to appear to him. The idea of Finn driving out sounds like a very poor one, all things considered, especially if it wouldn’t get the baby and Finn together any quicker than waiting on a flight, which is what it sounds like. “I don’t know what to say,” Kurt finally admits. “Rachel’s been counting on _not_ having an extended amount of time with the baby right after the birth.” 

“Shit,” Finn mutters. “Maybe you could stay with him at the hospital until I can get there?”

Kurt does some calculating in his head, and he shakes his head. “I don’t think they’ll let the baby stay that long. It’s not snowing here at all. I suppose _I_ could drive with him. Or her.” 

“Can you do that, though? Would they let you just put him in a car and _drive_ him? Or her? To _Ohio_? Can you even put a baby that little in a car?” Finn asks. 

“In a car seat, yes,” Kurt says. “I suppose you should send me a copy of all the legal paperwork? But once the pediatrician releases the baby from the hospital, I don’t see why I _couldn’t_.” 

“Will they do it without me there?”

“Probably they’ll need to release the baby with Rachel. I’m not sure. I’ll make plans, though,” Kurt says. “It’s probably a ten hour drive without stopping, right?” 

“I think so,” Finn says. “I’m gonna call Mom and we’ll talk to the lawyer to see what we can do. I’m still gonna try to make it myself.”

“Okay. I’ll keep you updated,” Kurt promises. 

“Thanks, Kurt. Tell Rachel—I don’t know. Tell her whatever you think’ll help her the most.”

“I will, Finn.” Kurt doesn’t check to make sure the call has ended before heading back into the room, where Rachel is in the middle of another contraction. Kurt wonders how many contractions she’s had while he was outside the room, but judging by the look on the midwife’s face, he suspects that the answer is ‘more than he would have thought’. When Rachel moves from the midwife to lean on the bed, Kurt moves closer to the midwife, eyebrows raised questioningly. 

“She’s progressing quickly,” the midwife says. “Probably a few more hours, but not as long as some first births I’ve attended.”

“Kurt?” Rachel says, in between deep breaths. “Can you see if my dads are on their way?”

Kurt pulls out his phone again and realizes he has a message he hadn’t noticed in the hecticness of communicating with Finn. It’s from before he first contacted Finn, from LeRoy, that they got seats on one of the last planes out of Columbus. “They are,” Kurt says to Rachel. “They’ll be here before you know it.” Privately, Kurt hopes they arrive after the baby, especially with Finn unable to get out of Ohio. 

After another hour that feels like at least three, Kurt goes back into the hallway, leaving Rachel alone with the midwife. There are several messages from Finn, about the lawyer, the hospital’s legal office, and some kind of paperwork that Kurt will need, and Kurt decides the best course of action is to call Finn again. 

“Hey!” Finn says. “Is the baby here yet?”

“Not yet,” Kurt says. “I’m a little confused by your messages.” 

“We talked to the lawyer, and _she_ talked to another lawyer, one in New York,” Finn says. 

“Okay, that sounds good?” 

“There’s more paperwork, and some stuff has to be notarized I guess, and maybe there’s a judge. I wasn’t super clear on that part,” Finn explains. “But the lawyer—the other lawyer, the New York one—is coming to the hospital with the papers, and if you really want to drive the baby, then the New York lawyer’ll make you the temporary custodian or guardian or something, and then you can legally drive the baby to Ohio.” He exhales loudly. “Does that make sense, or should I maybe get Puck?”

“I’ll have papers to bring the baby to you as soon as the baby is out of the hospital?” Kurt sums up. “Can you have Puck reserve a rental car with a baby seat?” 

“Yeah. Do you want to talk to him?” Finn asks. 

“Just have him text me the details of the reservation. I’ll call you as soon as the baby’s here.” 

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Make sure you’re ready? And stay calm?” Kurt suggests. “And go to class!” 

“How am I supposed to sit through class when I’m about to be a dad?” Finn asks. 

“I don’t know. It just seemed like something I should encourage,” Kurt says. “What’s Puck doing?” 

“Sending texts and trying to make me go to bed.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Kurt suggests, then looks back towards the room as he hears Rachel make a different noise than before. “I’ll call you!” 

When Kurt goes back into the room, Rachel’s on the bed lying on her side, which is the first time Kurt’s actually seen her on the bed since they arrived. Kurt steps towards the midwife before Rachel can see him, planning on rubbing her back after he gets an update. He can hear Rachel humming in what may be the lull between contractions. 

“How is she?” Kurt whispers as quietly as he can to the midwife. 

“She’s doing well. Almost fully dilated, but not feeling the urge to push yet,” the midwife says. 

Kurt nods. “My brother can’t fly out of Ohio. After the baby’s here, can you give me a crash course in transporting a baby?” 

The midwife looks startled. “The hospital can’t legally release the baby into your care, not with—”

 

“They’re handling the legal aspects,” Kurt assures her. “Lawyers talking to lawyers.” 

“We’ll have to see if the baby is ready to travel. Technically, she’s not quite 37 weeks, so the baby could have some health issues and need to be admitted into the NICU,” the midwife says, keeping her voice low. 

“But maybe not, right? Since she’s not completely certain on her dates?” Kurt asks. 

The midwife nods. “And not all babies born before 37 weeks have difficulties,” she says. “One of the baby nurses should be able to walk you through any questions you have about care. Will Rachel have someone staying with her while you’re transporting the baby?”

“Her dads got seats on the last plane out of Columbus,” Kurt says as he nods, mentally acknowledging that even if they’d known, neither of them would have been likely to give up his ticket for Finn. 

“Good. She’ll need the support and someone to keep an eye on her in the postpartum period.”

Rachel makes the same noise that Kurt heard when he was in the hallway, and he walks over to the bed, cautiously rubbing her back. Rachel lifts her head from the pillow.

“Is everything ready?” she asks. 

“Everything’s fine. You just worry about you,” Kurt says. 

“This is so stupid,” Rachel says quietly, letting her head drop onto the pillow. “I was so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. We’ve talked about this. Everything’s going well, everything’s going to be fine, and your dads will be here soon.” 

“I should’ve talked to Finn myself. I should’ve told him.” She scrunches her eyes closed as she obviously starts to have another contraction, gripping the bed with one hand and reaching out to Kurt with the other. Kurt takes her hand and keeps rubbing her back, waiting until her face relaxes to speak. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about what’s past.” 

“He hates me. I’m sure he hates me,” Rachel says, starting to cry and clinging to Kurt’s hand. “I would hate me, too.”

“No one hates you, I promise,” Kurt says. Even though Kurt feels like a few uncharitable thoughts would have been somewhat understandable, from Finn or Puck either one, he’s not seen any real indication of any. “It’s almost over, Rachel.” 

“I want to go home. I don’t want to have a baby,” Rachel says. She continues to cry, pausing during the next contraction, which does seem a little shorter than the previous ones. Rachel makes an odd noise at the end, almost like a grunt. 

“You can go home soon,” Kurt promises, giving the midwife a questioning look. 

“Rachel, are you feeling the urge to push?” the midwife asks.

Rachel startles slightly. “I think I need the restroom.”

“What you’re feeling is the urge to push,” the midwife explains. “Are you comfortable on your side?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel says. 

“Try bearing down into the next contraction and see how that feels,” the midwife says. When Rachel’s next contraction comes, she makes the grunting noise again, scrunching her face. “Good,” the midwife says. “If you’re comfortable, you should stay on your side for now.”

“I don’t know,” Rachel repeats.

Kurt looks at the midwife again. “Shouldn’t she know?” he whispers. 

The midwife smiles at Kurt briefly before returning her attention to Rachel. “She’s focused on birthing right now. There’s not a lot left over to answer questions,” the midwife says. 

Kurt thinks that would have been more helpful information to have than all the warnings about screaming—which Rachel has done none of—but he files the information away in the back of his head. Rachel’s nurse comes back into the room with some kind of cart, followed by two more nurses, one of whom is pushing yet another cart, and they all seem to be setting up quietly but quickly while Rachel continues grunting through her contractions. 

During one contraction, Kurt steps away from the bed just long enough to send Finn a quick message that Rachel’s pushing, then goes back to mostly watching from behind Rachel. Pushing lasts longer than Kurt expected, and the progress Rachel makes is slow, but eventually, the midwife announces that the baby is crowning and tells Rachel to make little pushes instead of big ones. A few minutes later, the baby’s head is out, and after one more hard push, Rachel drops back against the bed in exhaustion and the midwife holds up the baby.

“Is the baby okay?” Rachel asks softly. The midwife and at least one nurse are still doing something with Rachel’s lower half, and somewhere in there, somebody must cut the cord, as another nurse carries the baby to a warming tray. Kurt can’t tell if the baby is a boy or a girl, but the nurses don’t seem overly alarmed, so he feels justified in replying to Rachel. 

“I think the baby’s fine,” Kurt says. “Are you?” 

Rachel nods her head weakly. “You’re sure the baby’s okay?”

“I can see wiggly arms and hear some noises, so I think he or she is fine,” Kurt says, pushing Rachel’s hair off her forehead. 

“I’m thirsty,” Rachel says. “Can I have something to drink?”

“Of course,” Kurt says, walking across the room to the pitcher of water and pouring a cup for Rachel while trying to peer over at the baby. The plan had been that Finn would be there, or nearly there, and stay with the baby, but now Kurt feels like he needs to be in two different places. 

When he returns to Rachel’s side, the midwife and one of the nurses are doing something else, and Kurt passes Rachel the water. “Everything still okay?” 

Rachel sips her water and nods. “Is— do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t tell. Do you want me to go ask?” 

Rachel nods again. “So you can tell Finn. He should know.”

“Okay.” Kurt squeezes Rachel’s hand gently and walks over to where two of the nurses are bent over the baby. “Excuse me,” he says to the nurse who seems less involved. “I just wondered if it was a boy or a girl? And if it’s okay? The midwife mentioned something about being early.” 

“He’s a little boy. Small, but he seems healthy. We’ll probably move him to the NICU for observation for a few hours,” the nurse says. 

“How big?” Kurt asks, because that seems like something else Finn should know. 

“Six pounds, one ounce. No length yet. He keeps curling up every time we try.”

“A little stubborn? Good,” Kurt says, smiling at him as he squirms. “Hold on to that.” 

Kurt steps back and glances at Rachel before pulling out his phone and sending Finn a quick text. “It’s a boy, 6 lb 1 oz,” he types, then hits send, because there’s not much else to say in a text. There’s no point in worrying Finn about the probably unnecessary NICU observation. 

“It’s a little boy,” Kurt says to Rachel quietly when he returns to her bed. “Do you want me to message your dads?” 

Rachel nods, then hesitantly asks, “Can I hold him? Just for moment.”

“You’ll need to ask the midwife or one of the nurses, because they mentioned the NICU,” Kurt says. “I don’t know if that means anyone can hold him or not.” 

“Can you ask? If they say no, I don’t think—” Rachel sighs. “I can bear a no from you.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, then approaches the midwife, because she looks the least busy, for the moment. “Rachel’d like to hold him for a moment. Can she, or does he have to stay on the thing he’s on?” 

“I think he’s fine for her to hold him for a few minutes. She had specified before the birth that she didn’t want to hold him, though,” the midwife says. “Are you sure she’s ready for this?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admits. “But he’s never going to be completely absent from her life, so perhaps for the future, it’s best she overcomes the hurdle of having held him.” 

The midwife smiles and nods, then carefully picks up the baby, wrapped in a plain white blanket, and walks him over to Rachel. “He’s beautiful and seems very healthy,” the midwife says, as she slowly lowers the baby to Rachel’s outstretched arms. “We’ll need to take him to the NICU in a few minutes, just as a precaution, but I believe he’s in excellent health.”

“Thank you,” Rachel says. She doesn’t pull the baby to her chest, instead staring down at him in her arms, resting against the bed. “He looks like Finn, doesn’t he?”

Kurt isn’t really sure he can detect much of Rachel or Finn either one in the baby, but he nods, because it seems important to Rachel. “I can’t tell what color his eyes are, yet.” 

“They’ll probably be brown,” Rachel says. She watches the baby for another minute before lifting him in the direction of the midwife, who takes him. Rachel lies back against the bed again, looking at Kurt. “I’m doing the best thing for him. Aren’t I?”

“Not wanting to raise him is a perfectly valid feeling and decision,” Kurt says. “You and I both know this is the best arrangement.” 

“Finn will be a good father. I know he will,” Rachel says. Her eyes start to tear up, one small drop rolling down her cheek. 

“He will.” Kurt squeezes Rachel’s hand and glances at the midwife, nodding towards the baby and the door. If they’re going to take him to the NICU, Kurt thinks it might be better if they go ahead. “Do you want me to find out exactly where your dads are?” 

Rachel nods. “Thank you, Kurt.”

“Of course.” Kurt steps out into the hallway to check his messages, looking first to see that LeRoy sent one only a few minutes earlier that they were on their way to the hospital. Reassured by that, Kurt decides to go ahead and call Finn quickly. 

“Hello?” Finn says, answering too fast to have actually gone to bed like Puck had suggested. “Is the baby here? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. It’s a little boy. He’s a little early but fine.” 

“A boy? For real? Puck! Puck, it’s a boy. We have a boy!”

“I told you to go to—what?” Puck says in the background, sounding like he did manage to actually sleep. 

“A boy, Puck! Rachel had our baby!” Finn continues, sounding increasingly excited with each word. “We’ve got a son, Puck!”

“Yeah? Is he okay?” Puck asks. 

“He’s fine,” Kurt says again. “Finn, put me on speaker.” 

“Okay,” Finn says into the phone. “Okay, you’re on, Kurt. How big is he? Does he have hair? Is Rachel okay?”

“He’s six pounds and one ounce. Rachel’s fine and her dads are almost here, so they’ll be able to stay with her. Since he may be a little early, they’re taking him to the NICU for observation, but really, that’s probably best for Rachel, too,” Kurt says. 

“Is he breathing on his own and pink and stuff?” Puck asks. 

“Yes, and he won’t let them get a good length yet.” 

“Do you think he’ll be tall? Or maybe he’ll be really short like Rachel,” Finn says. “I’m going to try the airlines again and see if there’s anything they can do.”

“It’s okay,” Puck says. “It’ll be fine.” 

“I’m going to stay close to him and the NICU once Rachel’s dads get here,” Kurt says. “Do you want me to send you a picture or do you want to wait?” 

“I want pictures!” Finn says. 

“Not me, I want to wait and see him in person,” Puck says. “Just send ’em to Finn.” 

“Finn?” Kurt asks. 

“I won’t show Puck. I just want to see the baby,” Finn says.

“Okay. I’ll send you some pictures. Anything else you need me to know?” 

Finn doesn’t answer for a moment, then he asks, “Is she sure?”

“I don’t know that anyone in her position would be one hundred percent sure, but yes, I think she’s sure,” Kurt says. 

“C’mon, we’ll try to get some sleep,” Puck says. “We won’t soon enough, right?” 

“Yeah. I guess that’s true,” Finn says. “Okay, Kurt. Thank you for all of this. You’re the best brother I ever had.”

Kurt laughs. “You’re welcome. I think Puck’s right. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Thanks, Kurt,” Puck says, then the call ends. 

Kurt stays in the hallway for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts and decide what to do next. His phone vibrates with an incoming message from LeRoy, that they’re at the hospital, and that at least makes Kurt’s decision somewhat easier. He walks back into the room and over to Rachel. 

“Your dads are waiting for the elevator, so I’m going to go with the baby as far as I can, okay?” 

“Okay,” Rachel says. “You talked to him?”

Kurt nods. “To both of them.” 

“Was he happy?”

“Very happy,” Kurt says. “I promise.” 

“Good,” Rachel says, nodding. She takes Kurt’s hand and squeezes it. “You’re my best friend, and I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.” Kurt brushes Rachel’s hair off her face again. “I have my phone if you or your dads need me.” Rachel nods just as her dads rush into the room, and Kurt steps back towards the baby. 

The nurses wheel him out almost immediately, which is good timing all around, and Kurt follows them down a hall and up an elevator, until they direct him to a small room just outside the NICU, along with a short description of NICU visitation policies, and Kurt sits down to wait for them to get the baby situated before he goes inside. 

He spends the time waiting looking at the weather and transportation news, and he doesn’t see how Finn will be able to get a flight out of Ohio anytime soon. Kurt would think driving were a possibility, but with the weather and the multitude of other people trying to leave Ohio by any means, combined with Finn’s excitement, Kurt can’t necessarily endorse that as an option either. 

After a bit, a different nurse appears and says Kurt can go in after gowning up, and Kurt does, first taking several pictures and sending them to Finn before sitting down to wait. The nurse says one of the doctors will be around ‘shortly’, however long that might be, and Kurt assumes it will be longer than he might otherwise think or hope. 

Kurt suspects that he dozes a little, as does the baby, before the doctor comes around. She looks somewhat confused at the file, then at Kurt and the baby. “Kurt Hummel,” Kurt says, offering his hand. “I’m his uncle.” 

“Oh,” the doctor says. “I thought it was his father who would be here with him.”

“Finn couldn’t get a flight out of Ohio before the airports closed due to the weather. There should be some legal documents in the file so I can transport the baby once he’s released,” Kurt explains. 

“Oh, yes, I did see something about that. You’ll be staying with him during visiting hours, then?”

Kurt nods. “He isn’t going to have to stay long, is he?” 

“Unless he takes a turn, we’ll probably release him at 48 hours. We’re mainly concerned with his breathing, but his O2 sat looks good,” the doctor says. 

“Two days. Okay,” Kurt says. “And how much access will I be able to have?” 

“I’ll have the on-call nurse explain all of that. Since he doesn’t need oxygen and he’s maintaining his body temperature reasonably well, you’ll be able to hold him, if you’d like.”

Kurt nods. “Okay. Thank you.” 

The forty-eight hours between the baby being born and being released from the NICU are mostly a blur for Kurt. He spends most of the time holding the baby, enough time napping that he’ll be able to drive, and a little bit of time collecting all the information everyone is sending him that he needs for traveling. The airline situation doesn’t improve, and even when the airports in Ohio give a projected time to reopen, the flights to New York are booked for days. 

The baby doesn’t have any trouble with breathing or body temperature, which at least means that he won’t have to stay longer, and as Kurt finally starts packing the two of them up for a drive across Pennsylvania, he thinks that at least the NICU stay gave him a chance to get comfortable with feeding and changing the baby. 

While the baby sleeps and they wait for the last visit from the on-call doctor, Kurt heads to the loft to pick up a few things and check in with Rachel. Santana isn’t home when Kurt arrives, but that, he suspects, is probably because Hiram and LeRoy are both there. Kurt waves on the way to his bedroom to pack, then sits down at the table beside Rachel. 

“How are you feeling?” Kurt asks. 

“Better,” Rachel says. “I’m surprised, actually. It’s almost like none of it ever happened.”

Kurt nods. “I’ll be back in a few days. Your dads will be here at least until then?” 

“Yes, they’ll stay as long as I need them. Can you send them some pictures, once you’ve gotten everything settled back in Lima?”

“I’ll make sure to let Finn and Puck know to,” Kurt says as he nods. “I’ll see you in a few, Rachel.”

“I love you, Kurt. Travel safely,” Rachel says. 

“Love you too, and I will.” 

Getting all of the release paperwork signed takes a little longer than Kurt expects, which means the sun is barely up when he heads down with a nurse to meet the rental car, which is supposed to have the car seat already installed. The nurse checks the installation while Kurt leafs through the paperwork and signs for the rental car, and then the nurse checks the fit of the baby in the car seat while Kurt double-checks his supply of bottles and diapers, along with calling up his route on his phone. The slightly quicker route goes straight across Pennsylvania, but Kurt’s going to go the southern route that won’t take him through quite so many desolate stretches. 

Once Kurt’s phone has directed him out of New York and onto I–95 South, Kurt calls Finn’s phone, putting it on speaker. 

“Hi! Kurt! Hey!” Finn says when he answers. “Are you on your way? How’s the baby? Is there lots of traffic?”

“We’re on our way, in Jersey now,” Kurt says. “I thought if you two wanted to talk to him while he’s awake, you could.” 

“Really? Do you think he can understand us?”

“I think he can certainly hear you and your tone of voice, at least,” Kurt says. “I have the phone on speaker, if you want to.” 

“Okay,” Finn says. “Hi, baby. I’m your dad. It’s weird you don’t have a name yet. I guess we can just call you baby for now. You’re with your Uncle Kurt right now, and he’s pretty cool, so I bet you’re having a good drive…”

Finn and, eventually, Puck keep talking to the baby the entire time Kurt is driving south through New Jersey, and well past Philadelphia as well. When the signs start to announce that they’re approaching Harrisburg, Kurt decides it’s probably a good time to pull over, change the baby, and feed him. 

“Finn?” Kurt breaks in. “I think I’m going to stop and let him eat and put on a fresh diaper and then see if he’ll sleep for a bit.” 

“Okay. My voice is getting kind of tired, anyway,” Finn says. “Maybe Puck and I can talk to him again once you get to the Ohio border?”

“I’ll call you once he’s awake again,” Kurt says. “Try to get some sleep.” 

Puck laughs. “I’ll do my best to get him to.” 

The baby seems happy to get out of the car seat and have a bottle, wiggles a lot during his diaper change, and then looks sleepy almost as soon as Kurt fastens him back in the car seat. The three hours or so between Harrisburg and Pittsburgh are relatively boring, and Kurt is glad the rental car is an upgrade that lets him control the temperature in the back seat separately from the front. He stops again in Pittsburgh to feed and change the baby, and when he seems to still be a little sleepy, Kurt decides to wait until they’re near Youngstown to call Finn again.

“Hey,” Puck says very quietly. “I finally got Finn to crash. He’ll probably hear me talking and wake up in ten minutes, but that’s ten more minutes, right?” 

Kurt laughs a little. “Exactly. I’ll put you on speaker.” 

It takes closer to fifteen minutes before he hears Finn’s voice, and when he gets to Mansfield, he interrupts the two of them again. 

“I’m going to stop one more time and then we’ll be there in about an hour and a half,” Kurt says. “Ready?” 

“Wow. No, probably, but we’ve got all the stuff, at least,” Finn says. 

“You’ll be fine. We’ll see you soon,” Kurt says, then ends the call as he pulls off the interstate. 

The last stop goes as smoothly as the others, and Kurt starts to feel a little nervous himself as he keeps driving west. He’s never brought someone a baby before, much less their own baby, and he’s not sure he’s completely ready for whatever reactions the three of them might have. 

He reminds himself not to drive to his dad and Carole’s house, and not to the University of Lima campus, either, but to the address Puck had sent for the apartment they’d found relatively near campus. Kurt pulls up to the parking lot of the apartment complex an hour and twenty minutes after he’d texted them that he was leaving Mansfield, which he thinks is probably best. Hopefully they aren’t peering out the window waiting just yet. 

Kurt wraps the baby in the heaviest blanket the hospital let him take, adjusts the baby’s hat, and then carefully walks to their apartment door and knocks.


	5. Dad and Other Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. It’s a baby. He’s a tiny, little baby.

The last text from Kurt, that he’s leaving Mansfield, sets up what feels like the most excruciating wait in a series of increasingly difficult waits that started cascading over the summer. In that sense, Puck can only be thankful that he and Finn didn’t know about the baby sooner in the pregnancy. There’s probably other reasons that Puck himself should specifically be thankful about that, but Puck tries not to dwell on them. 

He tries not to dwell on any of it, at least not around Finn. He talked to Jake a few times, his mom twice, and once, he called Quinn at Yale, and the two of them commiserated. It has nothing to do with the baby or Finn, in the end, and Puck knows it’s a completely different situation than it was with Beth, but all the preparation had still dredged up old crap that he’d wanted to deal with and not let color things with the baby or Finn. 

Puck suspects that Kurt may have fudged his timeline on the last leg of the trip. It really is ninety minutes from Mansfield, but the last stop for baby care seemed longer than the others, from Kurt’s self-report, which would mean that Kurt may have driven for at least a few minutes before sending the text that he was pulling out. It’s not the worst idea, given how excited and on edge Finn is. Puck’s excited too, but he can’t be as keyed up as Finn, and when the clock hits one hour and fifteen minutes since Kurt’s text, Puck starts hoping even more that his guess about the fudged timeline is correct. 

Still, what he says to Finn is, “It’s going to be at least fifteen more minutes. We may as well finish the last _two_ minutes of this episode.” Puck’s not sure either one of them know what it’s even an episode of, but it’s white noise, at least, and he gets Finn to sit down on the couch again. 

When the knock on the door comes, a good ten minutes before Finn’s alarm is set to go off, Puck nods a little, mentally thanking Kurt for that. 

“Is that them?” Finn asks, practically leaping onto his feet. “I think that’s them!”

“I really hope it’s not someone else this late,” Puck says, following Finn to the door. 

Finn opens the door and immediately says, “It’s them!”

“Here we are,” Kurt says, half to them and half, it seems like, to the baby, and he barely steps inside before stretching his arms towards Finn. “Time to meet your dad.” 

“Oh my God. It’s a baby. He’s a tiny, little baby,” Finn says, putting out his arms to take the baby. 

“He’s really an excellent traveler,” Kurt says as he transfers the baby to Finn, then steps back. Between the blanket and the hat, Puck can’t really tell who the baby looks like, just that he looks like a content newborn. 

Finn stares down at the baby, then looks up at Puck. “Look at our baby!”

Puck grins. “I see him. I think he sees you, too.” The baby’s eyes are blinking, but Puck can tell he’s watching Finn’s face. 

“He’s smaller than I thought he’d be,” Finn says. “Wow. Thank you, Kurt. Thank you so much for bringing him home!”

“Of course,” Kurt says, almost dismissively. 

“He _is_ tiny,” Puck agrees. “We really have to figure out a name, now.” Puck shifts closer, putting his chin on Finn’s shoulder, and he can see the baby’s eyes shifting a little between Finn’s face and Puck’s. 

“Can we name him Thor?” Finn whispers. 

“I don’t think he really looks big enough to wield a hammer,” Puck says equally quietly. 

“How about Coulson. He’s small.”

“Yeah.” Puck watches the baby for a minute or so. “Oh, but people’ll call him ‘Coal’.” 

“Oh. Yeah, and Coulson _died_ ,” Finn says. “That’s no good.” He touches the baby’s hand, and his little fingers curl around Finn’s finger. 

“He came back, at least,” Puck says. He runs the back of his fingers down the baby’s cheek, grinning at him. “Barton’s small, too, but I think Bruce is out.” 

“Yeah, but we can’t name him Barton. People’ll call him Bart,” Finn says. He jiggles his finger slightly; the baby holds on tightly.

Puck winces. “No, that’d be bad. He just doesn’t look like a Steve, though.” 

“Nobody looks like a Steve,” Finn says, then looks down at the baby again. “Do they, baby? No, no they don’t.”

“James?” Puck suggests. 

“Bucky,” Finn counters. 

“That’s a nickname, not a name. It’d have to be Buchanan.” 

“I like Buchanan, but that’s a middle name. We still have to have a first name.”

“Yeah, but now we’re two-thirds of the way done,” Puck says. “Go us. Right, little guy?” 

“We’re already great at being dads!” Finn says, rocking the baby slightly. The baby still has a firm grip on Finn’s finger. “Oh, crap, speaking of names, though.”

“What? Is there a Buchanan in your family or something?” 

“Not that I know of. Just, what’s he gonna call us?” Finn asks. 

“He’ll probably figure that out once he has to start differentiating between us. Like how Nana wanted to be Grandma but I just called her Nana.” 

“What if he calls us both the same thing, though?” Finn says. “Like what if we’re both Dad. Can we both be Dad? Is that allowed?”

“Sure it is,” Puck says with a shrug. “If he wants to take a chance of getting a drum solo instead of a few chords or vice versa, he can.” 

“Do you have any names? Like from your side of the family, I mean,” Finn says. 

“No Daniel, but you knew that,” Puck says. “Some of them are kind of old-fashioned. I lucked out. I could have been an Ezra or an Isaiah. There’s a Jonah and a Boaz and an Isaac, too.” 

“Boaz?” Finn asks. “For real?”

“Yeah, for real. Probably an Abraham, too, but that’s a lot of name.” 

“No, go back to Boaz. Is he from the— which one’s the Jewish one?” 

“Yeah, the story with Ruth and Naomi,” Puck says with a nod. 

“Oh, yeah, the one with the Israelite lesbians!” Finn says. “I remember that one.”

“Don’t call them that in front of my mom! I mean, they totally _were_ , but don’t let her hear you,” Puck says. “Did you like the name Boaz or did you just want to review the Tanakh? ’Cause if it’s the second one we should probably put that off.” 

“I don’t know what that means, but yeah, I like Boaz. Could we call him Bo?”

“What do you think, little guy?” Puck asks the baby. “You want us to name you Boaz and call you Bo?” 

“Bo Buchanan Hudson,” Finn says, saying it slowly and clearly like he’s trying it out. “Bo Hudson. I think that sounds pretty good, huh? What do you think, Kurt?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, and when Puck looks up, he realizes that the bag Kurt was carrying is near the door, along with a piece of paper on it. “I guess he left.” Puck picks up the paper and reads it. “Yeah, he says he’s gone over to ‘crash’ at Burt and Carole’s.” 

“Wow, so he just left us with the baby?” Finn looks up at Puck, a familiar panicked look on his face. “Puck, I’m not qualified to be left with a baby! I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“ _Our_ baby. Not a random baby, remember?” Puck says. “We can just sit down and stare at him until he gets hungry, if we want to.” 

“What if he doesn’t realize he’s hungry?” 

“I don’t think that’s actually possible.” Puck nudges Finn towards the couch. “I’m pretty sure he’ll cry when he’s hungry.” 

“But he’s just a baby,” Finn protests, letting Puck direct him to the couch. He sits down and waits for Puck, then shifts so the arm holding the baby’s head is resting on Puck’s leg. 

“A smart baby. Right, Boaz Buchanan Hudson?” Puck says to the baby. “You’ll tell us when you’re hungry.” 

“Bo Hudson. It’s good, right? You like it?”

“It’s good, yeah. It’s like picnics. Bo Hudson,” Puck says. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, leaning against Puck. “It is like picnics. You ready to hold him?”

“Yeah. You want to come see me, Bo?” 

“He does. He really does,” Finn says, carefully sliding Bo from his arms into Puck’s. 

“Hey, little guy. Hey, Bo,” Puck says, pulling him a little closer. “You’re so well-traveled already!” 

Finn puts his arm around Puck’s shoulders and leans even closer. “He had the best taxi driver ever, too. We owe Kurt dinner. Probably lots of dinners. Maybe some other stuff. I don’t know. Tuition, probably. Maybe a kidney.”

“We can’t pay his tuition. We can barely pay ours, and we have to start saving for Bo’s,” Puck says. “Can’t we just cook Kurt a few dinners and give him really great presents for his birthday?” 

“I guess so,” Finn says. 

“Tell your dad we all need both of our kidneys,” Puck says to Bo. “Six kidneys here.” 

“He’s got kidneys,” Finn says, touching the back of Bo’s hand. “That’s so weird. We’ve got a real baby, with kidneys and, look at his little fingernails, Puck! He has tiny little fingernails!”

“I see them,” Puck says, looking over at Finn and grinning. “And we get to trim them when they get too long. He’s so small right now. Not really heavy.” 

“I wonder if he’ll get big, or if he’ll stay small like— you know.” Finn sighs and strokes the back of Bo’s hand again. 

“Too early to tell, I guess. Probably he’s as big as he could get without being born first, you know?” Puck says. “We should, I don’t know. Take pictures, maybe.” 

“I don’t want to move, though. What if it bothers him? He’s so happy,” Finn says. 

“Isn’t your phone in your pocket?” Puck asks. “He _is_ happy, though. You like us, huh, Bo?” 

“He didn’t say no, at least,” Finn says, taking his hand away from Bo’s. He twists a little, probably digging into his pocket, and comes back with his phone. He starts snapping pictures of Bo, then tilts the camera and leans back. “Say cheese, Puck!”

Puck laughs. “You’re going to end up with a really good picture of my nostrils or something. Just get used to the pictures, little guy. There’s going to be a lot of them.” 

“We should call Mom. She’ll want to come over later, I bet. She can take pictures of all three of us.”

“In the morning,” Puck says, both because he figures after waiting two and a half days for Bo to get there, they should have time before he meets his grandmother, and also because Puck thinks making it through the night without anyone else there will help Finn stop panicking about random things. “This is pretty cool, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says softly. He sets the phone down and reaches for Bo’s hand again. Bo yawns and his eyes promptly close. “Aw, look. He’s asleep. He fell asleep so fast.”

“Didn’t one of those things I read off the internet say that was some kind of feeling-safe thing?” Puck shrugs. “Should I put him down so we can figure out what Kurt brought with him?” 

“We can take turns holding him and looking at stuff,” Finn says. 

“I told you we shouldn’t have worried about a bassinet,” Puck says. “See if there’s some of the ready-made bottles in there so we’re ready when he wakes up.” 

Finn nods, standing up and heading to the pile of bags Kurt left. He rummages around a little, before holding up a small palette of glass bottles. “Yeah, looks like a bunch. Diaper, too. Baby wipes. Looks like maybe he got some clothes.”

“Awesome.” Puck waits until Finn comes back over. “Hey. Guess what?” 

“What?”

“We’ve got a baby.” 

Finn grins. “Yeah, we do.”

“You want to hold him again?” Puck asks. “I can take a few more pictures, too.” 

“Yeah!” Finn holds out his arms for Bo. “Hey, Bo! You’re such a good sleeper!”

Puck shifts Bo back into Finn’s arms, then picks up Finn’s phone and takes a few pictures. “You know, I kept picturing him looking like that picture of you that Carole used to have hanging up. Remember? But he kind of does.” 

“Do you think so? I can’t tell who he looks like. His eyes are kind of squinchy,” Finn says. 

“They probably haven’t finished stretching out yet. But look at his mouth and his chin,” Puck says, running his finger across Bo’s chin as he speaks. “See?” 

“You think it looks like mine?”

“Yeah.” Puck leaves his finger on Bo’s cheek and looks up to grin at Finn. “Believe me, I know what your chin looks like.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. “That’s cool. I want him to look like me.”

“I think he will.” Puck leans against Finn’s arm and rests his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Want to just watch him sleep?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. 

Puck is pretty sure that the ‘smart’ thing to do would be to put Bo down eventually and for the two of them to lie down at the same time in bed, but the actual way they pass the night is just like Finn said – taking turns holding him, while sitting in bed. Eventually, Puck looks down while he’s holding Bo and sees Finn’s asleep, and they trade off staying awake and sleeping the rest of the night and into the early morning. 

As the sun’s peeking in, Puck wakes up and takes Bo after Finn changes his diaper, and Finn falls back asleep after ten minutes or so. Bo is seemingly studying Puck’s face, and Puck grins at him. 

“Hey, there,” Puck says softly. “We have to be quiet because your dad’s asleep. Your other dad. It’d be weird if I were asleep and talking to you.” Bo is probably just imitating Puck’s face, but Puck decides he’ll pretend the smile-like expression on Bo’s face is him thinking Puck is funny. “After everyone’s awake and we have breakfast that isn’t a bottle, we’ll call your grandma and she’ll come meet you. That’ll be pretty exciting when you’re only three days old, huh?” 

Bo doesn’t reply, but he does do the almost-smile again, and Puck’s pretty sure he’s grinning enough to look somewhat idiotic. “Yeah, you like it here with us, don’t you? Your dad’s been a little worried about you liking us and liking living here, but I knew you’d like it. You have to make sure and do that smile-thing a lot for him, okay?” 

After another ten or fifteen minutes, Bo falls asleep again, and Puck slouches against the headboard, watching both of them sleep until Finn starts to stir. Puck watches him for a moment, then glances at Bo, who is almost limp, he’s so deeply asleep. 

“Morning,” Puck whispers to Finn after a few more seconds pass. 

“Hey,” Finn says, rubbing the back of one hand across his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Mid-morning, I think,” Puck says. “I think he’ll be out for at least another twenty or thirty minutes.” 

“Did you get enough sleep? You should sleep more,” Finn says. 

“I got as much sleep as you did. I figured we’d nap this afternoon after your mom’s been here.” 

“Aw, yeah, I guess it’s time for Bo to meet the rest of the family, huh?” Finn gently rests his hand on top of Bo’s head, staring down at him asleep in Puck’s arms for a while. 

“He’s a popular guy. You want to see if your mom will bring breakfast with her?” Puck asks. 

Finn nods. “Yeah. I kind of want pancakes. Lots of pancakes. You?”

“I was thinking eggs. Maybe potatoes,” Puck says. 

“You can get sausage, I’ll get bacon, and we’ll split ’em half and half?”

Puck grins. “Sounds like a good plan. Oh, and tell her I definitely need coffee.” 

“Same,” Finn says. “Maybe we need to start buying it in bulk.”

“We’re going to look like we’re on a liquid diet at Sam’s Club. Formula and coffee,” Puck says as he laughs. Bo startles a little, his eyes staying closed. “Sorry, little guy. You can keep sleeping.” 

“He’s so beautiful,” Finn says softly. 

“I told you that he had your chin,” Puck says. “He’s so tiny, too.” 

“It’s probably not too late for you to break up with me and flee the country so I can’t find you,” Finn says. 

“Huh?”

“You’re half responsible for a person that’s smaller than, like, a bread loaf. That’s kind of a lot to ask.”

“He’s a lot cuter than a bread loaf, and if I wanted to bail, wouldn’t I have done it before now?” Puck asks. “Why now?” 

“Because now he’s here and it’s _real_ ,” Finn says, rubbing his thumb along Bo’s head. “I didn’t think you’d bail. I was just making sure you knew you could if you wanted.”

“Are _you_ wanting to bail?” Puck asks. 

Finn shakes his head. “No way. Look at our awesome baby.”

“He’s really awesome,” Puck agrees. “Maybe a little used to sleeping in our arms instead of a bed.” 

“He’s got his whole life to sleep in a bed,” Finn says. 

“Yeah. He’s not going to fit in our arms forever, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Finn says, smiling at Puck. “My arms are pretty long.”

“Okay, so when your mom gets here and inevitably is holding him, you can try picking me up?” Puck says with a grin. “Right? As a test?” 

“I figured that would be more like a sex thing, but I guess if you _really_ want to do that while Mom’s here…”

“We have to learn to be more flexible, remember? That’s what that website said,” Puck says, wondering which one of them will figuratively blink first. 

“I already know you’re flexible. This is more a test of whether my arms are strong,” Finn says. 

“We can test that, too,” Puck says with a shrug. “I mean, only if you want to.” 

“We’re dads now, though. Parents aren’t supposed to do crazy sex tests,” Finn says. “We’re supposed to, I don’t know. Dote. That’s a thing, right?”

“No, that’s a grandparent thing, I’m pretty sure.” Puck laughs and pokes Finn with his foot. “If we don’t have sex, how are we supposed to have another baby?” 

Finn starts to laugh loudly, which startles Bo badly enough that his arms flail and he lets out a cry. Finn glares at Puck as he scoops Bo out of Puck’s arms. “Shhhh,” Finn whispers to Bo. “Don’t listen to other Dad.”

“ _You’re_ the one who was laughing so loud,” Puck points out. “It’s not my fault you think I’m hilarious.” 

“Well, it’s not my fault you say totally inappropriate things in front of our sweet, innocent brand new baby!” Finn says. 

“He can’t understand what I was saying, and anyway, he’s going to be advanced, right? Most kids ask where babies come from around four. He’ll already know!” 

“Not if he thinks you and me can make babies,” Finn says, shaking his head. “We can _raise_ babies.”

“It’s, uh. Part of a healthy relationship, then. Which is very important for raising babies. Almost every website said so,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll totally have sex the first nap he has after Mom leaves.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, before or after _we_ nap?” 

“After. I’m still sooooo tired!” Finn says. “Oh my God. Let’s have Mom watch him while we take a nap!”

“I think that’s part of her job as a grandparent. Right? We have her hold him while we sleep?” 

“She’ll love it. She can take a hundred pictures of him to show her friends.”

“Oh no,” Puck says, feeling his eyes widen. “Oh, Finn, crap. You know what’s going to happen!” 

“What?” Finn asks. 

“The _scrapbooking_. Remember the last year we were in Little League?” Puck shakes his head. “She stayed up until like 3 am making mini-scrapbooks for every kid on the team, and we fell asleep before she did!” 

“Oh no,” Finn says. He groans and rocks Bo slightly. “Poor Bo. Your grandma is gonna make so many scrapbooks about you!”

“I actually kept mine, though,” Puck admits. 

Finn’s mouth twists into a guilty-looking smile. “I might’ve kept mine, too.”

“The best pictures in them _were_ of us.” 

“We look good in pictures,” Finn says. “So will Bo, I bet.”

“Well, yeah.” Puck runs his fingers over Bo’s hair. “You think he’ll have that cowlick?” 

“I just hope he gets enough hair to actually cover his head,” Finn says.

“Probably not anytime soon if your baby pictures are anything to go by, though. It’s all good, we got him all those hats, remember?” 

“I think Rachel had a lot of hair in those baby talent show pictures,” Finn says. “So there’s hope, I guess.”

“I have to admit I was never sure whether or not Hiram and LeRoy would go so far as to put a wig on a baby,” Puck confesses. 

Finn puts one hand up to his mouth. “Oh my God. Oh my _God_ , it _could_ have been a wig! They would _so_ put a wig on a baby!” He pulls Bo against him a little more tightly. Bo squeaks in protests and starts snuffling against Finn’s chest. “I’ll never let them glue a wig on you, Bo. Don’t worry, buddy.”

“Our first solemn promise as parents,” Puck says as he reaches for another bottle, screwing on the nipple and shaking the bottle before holding it questioningly. “We promise never to subject you to a wig against your will, Bo.” 

Finn takes the bottle from Puck, offering the nipple to Bo, who immediately starts eating like he didn’t just eat slightly less than two hours ago. Finn smiles down at him. “We’re already good parents. I was worried maybe we wouldn’t be, but we are, aren’t we? I think Bo’s happy with us.”

Puck scoots closer to Finn and Bo and puts his head on Finn’s shoulder, watching Bo suck down the formula quickly. “Yeah, he is. We are. C’mon, when have our combined powers ever really gone wrong?” 

“Hmm.” Finn tilts his head to rest against the top of Puck’s. “I can’t think of a single time.”


	6. Jewish Baby Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just a ceremony at temple. There’s some prayers and I don’t know, some kind of parents-thing and then the circumcision and the Hebrew name and everyone brings gifts.

Baby time isn’t like any other time. Hours seem to stretch out longer than they should, but the days pass so fast that Finn is startled when he realizes they’ve had Bo with them for two whole days and change. Bo already looks bigger, and he’s a great eater and sleeper, and so far, Finn’s experience with the reality of being a father has been much less stressful and difficult than the _idea_ of being a father. He’s either really good at it or really terrible at it, but at least he isn’t stressing about it much anymore. 

“Fresh bottle, Bo!” Puck says as he comes out of the kitchen, handing the bottle to Finn. “And I called the pediatrician, appointment on Wednesday afternoon.” 

“Good. We can find out how much he weighs now, officially,” Finn says. “Instead of me standing on the scale holding him and not holding him and subtracting.”

“I think he poops enough that we can say he’s growing,” Puck says as he sits down. 

“Oh yeah. We need to remember to buy more diapers.”

“Already put ’em on the list. Also I might’ve texted your mom to say that when she comes over tomorrow night, more diapers and more burp cloths would be appreciated.” 

“And we need to find about what shots he needs,” Finn says. “Maybe I should look that up first.”

“That’s not until two months,” Puck says, waving his hand and then grinning at Bo when Bo’s eyes move. “Oh, but we have to figure out the bris.” 

Finn looks up from Bo. “Huh?” 

“The bris? Eighth day and all that?” Puck says. 

“Uh. No,” Finn says. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“It’s just a ceremony at temple. There’s some prayers and I don’t know, some kind of parents-thing and then the circumcision and the Hebrew name and everyone brings gifts.” 

“The what now?” Finn asks.

“Circumcision, Hebrew name, all of that. I mean, I haven’t been to one, or at least not since I was really little, but I think it’s pretty low-key.” 

“Um. Yeah, no that’s not gonna happen,” Finn says. “I like our baby how he is.”

“But he’s Jewish,” Puck says, sounding almost confused. 

“Not really. I mean, I’m not Jewish,” Finn says.

“His mom’s Jewish. That makes him Jewish,” Puck says. “Plus I am, too.” 

“But his mom isn’t raising him, and I am, and I’m _not_ Jewish, so I don’t see why we need to do all of that stuff. It’s not like we’re _raising_ him Jewish.”

“Why not? And I mean it doesn’t matter if she is, that’s not how it works,” Puck says. 

“Because I’m not Jewish! I’m not gonna raise him in some religion that I’m not,” Finn says. “And he doesn’t need any—” He puts his hands over Bo’s ears and whispers, “Circumcision.”

“Uhh, you remember we both are, right?” Puck says. 

“Yeah, but I don’t remember it! And it didn’t happen after I was home and everybody was used to me and stuff!”

Puck frowns. “But he _is_ Jewish.” 

“No. I’m not doing it, so you can just stop talking about it,” Finn says. “I like him how he is. I’m not letting some stranger cut on him.”

“That’s your whole problem with him being Jewish?” 

“Well, for starters it is! But I don’t believe in that stuff, Puck! I’m not raising him in a religion I don’t believe,” Finn says. 

“ _I_ do!”

“Yeah, and I’m not trying to stop you, but you can’t make me raise Bo to believe it.”

“Make _you_?” 

“That’s what it sounds like you’re doing!” Finn says. Bo starts to fuss, waving his arms. “Now Bo’s upset.”

“Funny how all of this is just about _you_ ,” Puck says. “ _You_ aren’t raising him Jewish, huh?” 

“So you just want me to raise him however _you_ want? You want me to hand him over to some stranger and let them cut pieces off him?” Finn demands. He puts Bo against his shoulder, patting his back. 

“Just it’s nice how he’s _our_ baby when he’s awake at night, but he’s _yours_ when it comes to this!” Puck says. “You just flat-out told me it didn’t matter what I wanted, period!” 

“Not if you want to circumcise him at some Jewish baby party!”

“Nice. Really nice,” Puck says, standing up. “So which is it? Is he yours, or ours?” 

“If you really loved him, you wouldn’t _want_ to cut him!” Finn says. “You’d want to keep him safe, and you’d think he was perfect just how he is!”

Puck stares at Finn for at least thirty seconds without moving. “If I… _fuck_ you,” Puck says, turning around and heading towards the door. 

“Fine!” Finn shouts after him. “Be like that!”

“Yeah, _I’m_ the one saying one of us doesn’t love him!” Puck shouts over his shoulder. “You’re a fucking asshole, and you should think about that!” 

“You’re the asshole! You’re the one who wants to cut his poor little penis!”

“Oh my fucking God!” Puck yells, turning around. “This is not about his penis!” 

“It sure is, and stop yelling in front of Bo!” Finn says. 

“Why? He’s apparently _not_ my kid!” Puck says. “This is just fucking great.” 

“You don’t just get to decide what happens to him. You were planning all this stuff, and you never said even one thing about it before,” Finn says. “If you’re going to go, then go, but stop acting like a jerk!”

“I didn’t even think about it before! It’s just like, a thing! I didn’t know you’d freak out,” Puck says. “But _fuck_ , Finn, you just told me I had _zero_ say in anything.” 

“Yeah, and you think you don’t even _have_ to talk about this stuff with me! You just decided it needs to happen and you started planning, and now you’re pissed at me about it, and you’re just gonna walk out on Bo! So… So…” He puts his hands over Bo’s ears again. “So fuck you!”

“I didn’t plan anything! You heard the extent of my so-called planning!” Puck says, throwing his hands up. “Dammit, Finn, I _get_ it, okay? I have another kid that I have no legal right to and no social recognition of. You don’t have to rub it in.” 

“I’m not rubbing it in, but it’s not my fault that’s how the law is, and it’s not Bo’s fault either, and you don’t have to be like that to me about it,” Finn says. “I’d marry you if I could. It’s not my fault.”

“You could _treat_ me like it’s not that way. That _is_ your choice,” Puck says. “Not pulling rank on me.” 

“Yeah, and if I wanted to cut off his ears, I hope you’d pull rank on _me_ ,” Finn says. 

“That’s not the same!” Puck says, glaring at Finn. “And yeah, sorry. I _did_ forget you didn’t know all the stuff about Jewish moms and stuff. _That_ we should have talked about. But me pulling rank on you isn’t the same, and you know it.” 

“It’s the same to me, because he’s our baby, and it’s both our job to protect him,” Finn says. “And if I wanted to do something crazy like cutting up his poor little penis, it’d be your job to tell me I’m not allowed to. And _sorry_ , Puck, it _is_ crazy. He’s perfect how he is! It’d be different if he came to us already— you know. But he wasn’t, and I’m not letting anybody do it to him now.”

“This is making my head hurt, because there’s two different things going on,” Puck says. “Look. He’s Jewish whether or not he’s circumcised. He can always go get circumcised when he’s grown up. Okay? I’m not going to force the issue if it’s that important to you.” He takes a deep breath and slides down the door, sitting in the floor. “But it’s not the same to me.” 

“Okay. Sit down, then,” Finn says.

“Somewhere other than the cold floor, you mean?” 

“On the sofa with me like a normal person.”

 

Puck hauls himself up and sits back down, putting his hand on the back of Bo’s head. “Hey, little guy. Sorry about all that noise.”

“Here,” Finn says, transferring Bo into Puck’s arms. “And kiss me, before either one of us says anything else stupid.”

“We’d better kiss even more often,” Puck says wryly, leaning over to kiss Finn as he adjusts how Bo is lying. Finn takes his time, kissing Puck slowly until Bo starts to fuss again, his arms whacking lightly against Finn’s chest. 

“I love you,” Finn says, when he pulls away. “And you’re just as much Bo’s dad as me, okay? I just can’t stand to think about anybody hurting him. He’s our perfect baby.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome,” Puck agrees. “And I love you, too. It’s just…” 

“Just what?”

“No one else is going to see it that way. I can’t even take him to the pediatrician if he’s sick!” 

“I’ll tell them you’re allowed. I’ll put you on all the papers,” Finn says. “I’ll figure something out, to make sure everybody knows. I mean, we named him Boaz!”

Puck huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah, we did. But you know I’m right. Not just legally. Everyone else, too.” 

“Then I’ll tell them, but he doesn’t have to have the Jewish circumcision party for that,” Finn says. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Puck doesn’t say anything for awhile, watching Bo. “That’s one thing I _could_ give him, you know?” 

“You gave him his awesome name, too.”

“I’m a good namer. You have to let me name the next one that we’re magically conceiving,” Puck says, nudging Finn’s foot with his. 

“And can we do the party with no,” Finn lowers his voice again, “circumcising?” 

Puck nods. “I guess so. And uh, Caribou, he doesn’t know what that means.” 

“But I know what it means and I don’t like to say it too loud,” Finn says. 

“He’s going to react more to your tone than the word. Right, Bo? I could be saying anything, and you’d start grinning at me with this tone of voice!” Puck says, his voice pitched higher as he smiles at Bo. Bo smiles, then his eyes cross a little, which makes Finn laugh.

“Still,” Finn says. 

“I just don’t want _him_ to know there’s a difference between us,” Puck says after a few beats, his voice still high as he keeps smiling at Bo. 

“He’s gonna figure out that you’re the only one of us who goes to temple with your Nana, Puck,” Finn says. “I don’t think there’s any way around that.”

Puck turns towards Finn and slowly sticks his tongue out. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

“Yeah, and I’m choosing to ignore it, because it’s only true on paper,” Finn says. 

“For you, yeah. I mean across the board.” 

“We’ll make ’em all understand.”

“Yeah? How’re you going to do that?” Puck asks. “Bo can’t talk for another year or so.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Finn says. “But it’s gonna be weird, if you two are Jewish and I’m not. Can’t he be like half Jewish or just a little Jewish?”

“Jewish from the waist up?” Puck asks as he grins at Finn. 

“Hey, I’m right about that, and you know it!” Finn says. 

“I could teach him Hebrew? And let him decide if he wants to do a bar mitzvah?” 

Finn mulls it over for a minute before nodding. “But I’m not going to temple with Nana. Once was plenty.”

“She’ll still bring soup if you get the flu. And Bo can get Hanukkah presents _and_ have Santa visit.” 

“He’ll like that,” Finn says. “And I’ll try, okay? I try to do some of the Jewish stuff. I know it’s important to you, even if I don’t really get it, you know?”

“Yeah. That’s cool.” Puck looks up suddenly, his eyes wide. “Finn. It’s already _November_.” 

“Oh. Oh shit. We have to start buying presents for _two_ holidays!” Finn says. “Quick. Cover his ears so we can talk about what to buy!”

“I think we can probably just spell it, right? We can get him some of those B-O-O-K-S your mom keeps mentioning.” 

“Yeah. Maybe we could get him an F-O-O-T-B-A-L-L, too,” Finn says. 

“If we get him a Browns J-E-R-S-E-Y, he can get used to disappointment early,” Puck says wryly. “Just like we did.” 

“Hey, they could have a really good draft year in 2014,” Finn says. “Being a Browns fan will teach him that he’s always gotta have hope.”

“We could get him a tiny P-I-A-N-O since we have guitar and drums covered,” Puck says with a grin. “And more S-O-C-K-S. How have we lost so many already?” 

“I don’t know. I find them everywhere, but only _one_ of any pair!” Finn says. 

“We should be super-responsible and get him like, one of those college savings account things,” Puck says. “Or a savings bond. Are those still a thing?” 

“I have no idea. We can ask Mom. Or your Nana, maybe, since I guess you have to talk to her about the Jewish stuff?”

“Nana’s going to kill us that she hasn’t met him yet. It’s not our fault she’s out of town, but she’ll still kill us. What else to do want to get him?” Puck asks. 

“He doesn’t have to have one of those little hats, right?” Finn asks. 

“Oh, man, but it’d be so cute!” Puck says. “We could get him like, a rainbow yarmulke.” 

“No.”

“Brown and orange?” 

“We’ll discuss when his head is bigger.”

“You have to get a bigger head,” Puck mock-whispers to Bo. “That means we have to compliment you a lot. Can you handle that?” Bo stares at the U of Lima logo on Puck’s shirt.

“I think he’s super humble,” Finn says. 

“Well that’s just not acceptable, if he’s going to live here,” Puck says. “Bo, you’re the handsomest baby ever.” 

“You’re the best baby I ever knew,” Finn says, reaching for Bo’s hand. Bo wraps his hand around Finn’s finger and keeps staring at Puck’s shirt. “And you sleep so good!”

“I give you a one hundred out of one hundred on your performance review,” Puck says, nodding at Bo. “Assuming your job is eating and growing.” 

“Don’t forget pooping and peeing.”

“Those are sub-categories of the review, under eating. Oh, and Bo, you get top marks on your thighs, too,” Puck says. “Nice and chubby.” 

“He could probably work harder on his second chin, though. I’m gonna have to mark him down for that. Sorry, Bo,” Finn says. 

“Oh no, Bo! Don’t listen to Dad! I like your second chin. And you have excellent fingers.” 

“They’re kind of pruney because you keep sticking them in your mouth, though. Maybe you can work on that,” Finn says. “Little prune-finger baby.”

“Should we get him a pacifier?” Puck asks. “We could get your mom to bring one of those, too.” 

“Yeah. Oh, and some of the baby wipes without the smell. I read online that the kind with the smell could give him a rash!”

“But he doesn’t have a rash right now, so he’s probably okay,” Puck says.

“He _could_ get a rash, I said,” Finn says. “But… so what’s the deal with the Hebrew name? Can he still get that if we don’t let them do the c-word?”

“I think so? We can ask Nana. Anyway, we can give him one ourselves if we want to.” Puck laughs suddenly. “You know if he comes home with a bunch of weird piercings as a teenager, I’m really going to laugh about this.” 

“That’s different. He’ll be big, and he can make decisions about that kind of stuff. Just hopefully not his eyebrow,” Finn says. 

“Or his nose. We don’t want our kid to look like he got loose from a bullpen.”

“He can do the side of his nose, just not the middle. And not his tongue, either. Mom says that messes up your enamel.”

“Shh, don’t listen, Bo.” Puck looks up at Finn. “You’d probably like it if I pierced _my_ tongue.” 

“Not if it knocked off all your enamel,” Finn says. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s meth, not tongue piercings. Anyway, Bo, you’re—” Puck stops and laughs. “Asleep.” 

“Aww. He’s so cute when he sleeps,” Finn says. He runs his thumb over Bo’s fingers. “We wore him out with all the fighting, I think.”

“Or the compliments.” 

“Both, maybe,” Finn says. “I’m sorry, though. You’re just as much his dad as me, okay? I just don’t want anybody to hurt him. I don’t care what the reason is.”

“I know. I never thought of it as hurting, I guess,” Puck says with a shrug. “Do you think it’s too late to return that bassinet?” 

“We _might_ put him in it,” Finn says. 

“We also might decide to move to Maine when we graduate.” 

“Maine’s where they get the canned blueberries that come with the muffin mix,” Finn says. “We could totally move to Maine.”

“But we can buy the blueberries here. We don’t have to move there to get blueberries,” Puck says. “If we’re moving for produce, can we move to Florida for oranges?” 

“Yeah, and we’ll bring the bassinet, so that we have some place to put him when we want to have sex,” Finn says. 

“Can you believe he wasn’t here a week ago? That’s crazy. We didn’t have to put him anywhere to have sex,” Puck says. 

“But now we’re dads, and we have to plan ahead,” Finn says. “So we keep the bassinet.”


	7. Second-Favorite Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ll find out if Kurt’s the favorite uncle based on whether or not Bo actually does barf on him.

Kurt returns to NYADA less than a week after the baby—Bo, he reminds himself—is born, having missed three days of classes. No one at NYADA, aside from Kurt, knows Rachel was pregnant, though he’s sure that a few people have guessed and haven’t said anything. That lack of official knowledge, though, leaves Kurt free to answer honestly when his classmates ask where he was. 

“Oh, I’m an uncle now!” Kurt says enthusiastically, and when he’s asked for pictures, he pulls out his phone and shows them a few, of Bo alone and then with Finn, Puck, or both of them. Most of the students at NYADA look confused at a baby being named only ‘Bo’, but his full name doesn’t change the confused look on their faces. Kurt vacillates between thinking the name is genius or extremely weird. It’s possible, he mentally concedes, that it’s both. 

Because of the quick trip to Lima, Kurt stays in New York for his second Thanksgiving in a row, spending most of the few days off classes doing assignments and preparing for exams and Winter Showcase. Periodically, over the weeks between Bo’s birth and the break for winter holidays, Kurt gets texts from Finn or Puck, usually just containing pictures, and Kurt makes sure Rachel doesn’t see or notice them. 

When Kurt gets on the plane to fly to Ohio, just a few days before Christmas, he does feel a quiet sense of relief, because for over a week, he won’t be consciously tip-toeing around the fact of Bo’s existence. Maybe Rachel doesn’t need him to do that, but Kurt feels like it’s not yet been long enough for him to ask outright. 

Burt meets Kurt at the airport, and Kurt spends the ride back to Lima telling his dad about Winter Showcase and the last of his exams. He’s sure Finn, Puck, and Carole will all ask and be interested, but Kurt also assumes that having a baby around means more frequent interruptions. When they get to the house, Kurt’s unsurprised to see that Finn and, presumably, Puck and Bo are all already there, so when he walks inside, he calls out more quietly than usual. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Kurt,” Puck says, walking into the front hall with Bo in his arms. “Tell your second-favorite uncle ‘hi’, Bo!” 

“ _Second_ favorite?” Kurt asks as he puts his bags down. 

“Well, Jake brought him two pacifiers with his Hanukkah gifts,” Puck says apologetically. “It’s really hard to compete with pacifiers when you’re talking about someone whose age is measured in weeks and not months.” 

Kurt laughs, which makes Bo grin hugely. “So I should make a trip out for pacifiers before the twenty-fifth?” 

“Absolutely,” Puck says, transferring Bo to Kurt before turning away, facing the rest of the house. “Hey, Finn, Kurt’s here!” Puck turns back to Kurt. “He went into the kitchen to get something down for Carole, and we haven’t seen him since.” 

“Hey!” Finn says, popping out of the kitchen. “I can’t hug you. I have butter all over my hands.”

“That’s not what he went in there to get down,” Puck says to Kurt as he shakes his head. 

“That’s okay, I already stole your baby,” Kurt says brightly. 

“You better give him back before bedtime, or you’re gonna be sorry,” Finn says, disappearing into the kitchen again. 

“I will be?” Kurt asks as he walks into the living room and slowly takes a seat on the sofa. 

Puck grins and sits in one of the chairs. “How are your baby-bouncing skills? He’s old enough to have opinions now, and one of them is that bedtime is something that requires bouncing. And a little bit of crying.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could handle a little bit of crying,” Kurt says, but that makes Puck’s smile get bigger. “Or were you underestimating the crying?” 

“I might have been low-balling it,” Puck says with a shrug, settling back in the chair and watching Kurt with Bo. 

Bo mostly stares at Kurt, though after Kurt starts making faces at him, Bo starts imitating them, and Puck laughs a few times. Kurt doesn’t notice anything change, but after about ten or fifteen minutes, Puck sits up and calls towards the kitchen. 

“He’s about to need a bottle, Finn!” 

“Okay. Have one out in a sec,” Finn calls back.

“How in the world do you know that? He looks fine,” Kurt says. 

“Figuring it out before he starts crying makes all of us happier. Right, Bo?” Puck says. “See how he’s turning his head?” Kurt shakes his head, probably looking blank and confused. “Oh, well, he does that when he’s starting to get hungry.” 

“I suppose I’ll take your word for it,” Kurt says, shifting Bo in his arms. “What happens if he gets hungry in the car?” 

“And we don’t notice in time? Crying, screaming, all of that,” Puck says. “Which is why it’s good to catch it early. Finn, he’s doing the lip thing!” 

“I’m coming!” Finn says, hurrying out of the kitchen with a bottle. “Kurt, did you want to feed him?”

“Sure. I can see how much more he eats now,” Kurt says, taking the bottle. “Though I suppose that’s obvious from the size of the bottle, that it’s more.” 

“Yeah, he’s an eater, alright,” Finn says. He sits down on the sofa next to Kurt, on the side closest to Puck’s chair, and watches Bo drink from the bottle.

“He gets very high ratings on his eating ability, and growing,” Puck says. “He jumped percentiles from his first visit here to one month.” 

“I suppose you could argue that growing is his job?” Kurt asks, noting how much of the formula is already gone. 

Finn nods. “Yeah. Professional eater.”

“Not a professional sleeper anymore, though,” Puck says. “I’m really hoping that one of those boxes under the tree from Carole is actually an IOU for a night of babysitting.” 

“A full night?” Kurt asks. 

“He goes to sleep early, but some uninterrupted sleep’d be nice, right?” Puck says. 

“I remember when we used to sleep,” Finn says wistfully. “It was so nice.”

“Do you two want to go take a nap while I have Bo?” Kurt asks, feeling almost amused. “I do remember how to change his diaper.” 

“You _do_ have a bed here,” Puck says to Finn. 

Finn glances over at Puck. “I’m not gonna say no.”

“Go,” Kurt says, waving one hand toward the stairs. “I’ll make sure one of us gets you up for dinner.” 

“You heard him,” Puck says as he stands up.

Finn stands up, too. “Thank you _so_ much!”

Kurt stifles his laugh as Puck and Finn head upstairs, looking down at Bo. “I think your dads need some time alone, Bo,” he says. “I have a feeling there are only two or three people allowed to watch you that aren’t them.” 

Bo doesn’t make any noise beyond finishing up the bottle, and Kurt sets it on the table before lifting Bo to burp him. Bo burps twice and Kurt wipes his mouth before resettling Bo in his arms. 

“I suspect you’re going to take a nap now, too,” Kurt says. “I should probably find the remotes before you get too comfortable.” Kurt finds the remotes and carefully sits back down just as Bo starts to make a loud rumbling noise. “Oh yes. Diaper. I did forget about that, didn’t I?” 

By the time Kurt finishes changing Bo’s diaper, Bo is already looking sleepy, and Kurt turns on the television at a low volume as Bo drifts off, one fist clenched around his blanket. Carole continues doing things in the kitchen, coming into the living room a few times and bringing Kurt coffee at one point. Kurt contorts his torso when he drinks it, because he’s pretty sure none of them—including himself—would forgive him if he got a drop of coffee on Bo. 

When Bo wakes up from his nap, Finn and Puck are still upstairs, and Kurt gets another bottle from Carole. Bo finishes it just as Carole announces that dinner’s almost ready, and Kurt burps Bo as they walk up the stairs and knock on Finn’s door. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Kurt calls through the door as soon as he knocks. 

“Already?” Finn asks, sounding groggy.

“It’s been a few hours,” Kurt says. 

“We’ll be down in a minute,” Puck says, though he sounds only slightly more awake. “How’s Bo?”

“He’s fine. Burping,” Kurt says. 

“He likes to burp,” Finn says. 

Kurt looks at Bo. “It’s good you have a hobby already, Bo. Tell your dads we’ll see them downstairs.” Bo waves one arm and, after Kurt smiles widely, smiles back at Kurt. 

“Yeah, we’ll be down there,” Puck says. 

Kurt waits until he’s halfway down the stairs to confide to Bo his thoughts. “I suspect they had to get dressed again, Bo,” he says very quietly. “I’m sure otherwise they would have invited us in, right?” 

It’s closer to five minutes before Kurt hears Puck and Finn on the stairs, and Kurt suspects that one of them will take Bo as soon as they’re in the room. Sure enough, Finn immediately scoops Bo out of Kurt’s arms, resting him against his shoulder.

“Hey, little buddy!” Finn says. “Did you have fun with Uncle Kurt?” Bo blows raspberries into the shoulder of Finn’s shirts. “That much fun, huh?”

“Mostly sleeping fun,” Kurt says. 

“Sleeping fun is the best fun,” Puck says as he sits down. “Thanks.” 

“Second best fun,” Finn says under his breath. 

Puck grins and pokes Finn’s side near Bo’s feet, and Kurt raises his eyebrows as he shakes his head. “Yes, well,” Kurt says. “Did you take him to see the Santa at the mall yet?” 

“Is that something we’re supposed to do?” Finn asks. 

“And get the pictures,” Kurt says. “Every year. I was twelve before I convinced my dad that the annual ritual had run its course.” 

“That means somewhere here there are pictures of an eleven year old Kurt with Santa,” Puck says. “We need to find those. For Bo, I mean. So he knows about his family history.” 

“We could all go together. It’d be fun,” Finn says. “Come on, Uncle Kurt. Be the cool uncle and come with us to see Santa.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not getting in the picture,” Kurt says. “I’ll come if you promise I’m not going to be coerced into the picture.” 

“Why would anyone need to coerce you?” Puck says. “You might volunteer!” 

“We could all be in the picture!” Finn says, sounding excited.

Puck looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. “We can go buy matching Santa hats. Should we see if Jake wants to join us?” 

“All the uncles!” Finn says, bouncing Bo a little. “You hear that, Bo? All the uncles are gonna come see Santa with you!” Bo looks happy, smiling and blowing some bubbles, though Kurt suspects it’s due to Finn’s smile and tone of voice rather than actually caring about uncles or Santa. 

“I didn’t actually agree yet,” Kurt points out. 

Puck shrugs. “Yeah, but now Bo’s going to expect you there. We’ll make sure you have plenty of warning so you can figure out a red and white outfit. I mean, you _are_ going to match the Santa hat, right?” 

Kurt can feel his jaw drop. “I am _not_ going to take a chance on being mistaken for Santa!”

“You don’t have to have a beard or anything,” Finn says. 

“Oh, man, no that’s a great idea!” Puck says suddenly. “Cover Bo’s ears. Kurt can dress up like Santa for Christmas morning!” 

Kurt keeps gaping at Finn and Puck. “ _What_?” 

“I don’t know, Puck,” Finn says. He side-eyes Kurt. “He’s kind of skinny to be Santa.”

“Yeah, but they sell padding. Like the padded muscles for Halloween, but for Santa-bellies instead,” Puck says. 

“Padding!” Kurt says. “Are you serious?” 

“Aww, that would be so awesome! That’s so cool of you, Kurt,” Finn says. 

“I didn’t say—”

“You want to make Bo’s first Christmas special,” Puck interrupts. “It’s nice!” 

Kurt finally closes his mouth and sighs in resignation. “Please at least do not post the pictures to Facebook.” 

“Just the ones with Bo,” Finn says.

“Not on Facebook,” Kurt repeats. 

Puck nudges Finn. “Sure, we can skip putting them on _Facebook_.” 

Finn appears to be hiding a smile as he nods. “Okay. No Facebook. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, feeling slightly suspicious. 

“Hear that, Bo?” Puck says. “Christmas is going to be great. Mall-Santa and Christmas morning–Santa, too!” 

“Aww, he’s so happy,” Finn coos at Bo, who does look happy, right up until spits up all over Finn’s shoulder. “Ew. Ew! Puck! Take Bo! I have barf-shoulder again!”

Puck makes a face as he takes Bo. “It’s been at least twelve hours, though. Bo, you have to stop aiming for the shoulder.” 

“I’m just gonna go change my shirt,” Finn says, then walks off, still grimacing at his shoulder. 

“Was I in danger of… barf-shoulder earlier?” 

Puck laughs. “Everyone is in danger of barf-shoulder. We’ve mostly figured out how to avoid getting it in our hair, at least.” 

“Hair?” Kurt says, grimacing. “I think perhaps it’s _very_ good I’m the uncle and you two are the dads.” 

“You think that’s true, Bo? You think Uncle Kurt’d get tired of barf?” Puck says to Bo, who looks relatively pleased with himself. “Just wait until he sees a blowout diaper, right?” 

“People parent voluntarily?” Kurt says, making a face. 

“Well, yeah,” Puck says with a snort, looking up at Kurt. “I mean, look at him. He’ll get past the barf-shoulder eventually, and he already smiles. Right, little guy?” Bo does smile back at Puck, who bounces him a little. “Probably you sort of have to volunteer for it to make it worth it.” 

“Maybe so,” Kurt says, watching Puck and Bo, and they both look up when Finn comes back in the room. 

“ _Now_ I’m ready to eat,” Finn says. 

“We usually take turns,” Puck explains to Kurt. “Easier than getting food on Bo.” 

“Eventually he’ll want you to drop food, I suppose,” Kurt says. 

“Hey, he’s still little, don’t rush him!” Puck says. 

“Yeah, no food yet. Bottle diapers are bad enough,” Finn says. He holds his arms out for Bo. “You go ahead and eat. I can wait a little.”

“Eat,” Puck says. “You like this casserole better than I do.” 

“I’ll save you some, though,” Finn says, letting his arms drop. 

“I mostly want to make sure I get dessert,” Puck admits. “Now that we’ve gone and let Kurt in on the existence of barf-shoulder.” 

“I’ll still hold the baby,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Even if there’s a chance of barf-shoulder.” 

“Okay, Kurt probably _is_ the best uncle,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs quietly. “We’ll find out if Kurt’s the favorite uncle based on whether or not Bo actually does barf on him.”

Kurt laughs with them, and then the three of them mostly eat or watch Bo or both for the rest of the meal. Kurt thinks about his classmates at NYADA as he watches Finn and Puck interact with Bo, and how telling them he’s an uncle probably isn’t quite adequate to convey the fact that from the moment he set foot in the house, he wasn’t Kurt but Uncle Kurt. Uncle Kurt who somehow got conned into dressing up as Santa for Christmas morning, no less, but no one in New York would understand his acquiescence, either. Kurt smiles to himself as they start eating dessert. The first time Finn and Puck bring Bo to visit New York, Kurt might have some very confused friends and classmates on his hands.


	8. Training for a Roller Coaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not what Rachel had planned at all, but in the end, watching the little family in front of her and standing there with Kurt by her side, she knows she made the right decision.

Rachel’s body bounces back faster than she’d expected, and by the time the summer semester starts at NYADA, she almost looks like she’s never been pregnant at all. Sometimes, in the shower, she looks at her stomach, putting her hand on it and barely remembering what it felt like to have something moving around in there. She thinks about the baby less than she thought she would. He has a name—Bo—but she can’t really picture what he looks like. 

Nobody at NYADA asks her about the baby, which either means they somehow understand she didn’t keep him or confirms that they’re all too self-absorbed to notice anything out of the ordinary happening to someone who isn’t themselves. Rachel’s fine with that. She would answer if they asked her, and she even spent a few days practicing her response just in case, but since no one asks, she doesn’t have to explain anything. In nearly every way, her life is what it was before, only perhaps with a little more drive and a little less desire to date.

“Rachel? Do you have a moment?” Kurt asks her one Sunday morning in mid-June. 

Rachel looks up from her stretches. “Can I keep stretching while we talk?”

“I don’t see why not.” Kurt sits down with his cup of coffee and takes a sip before continuing. “Finn, Puck, and Bo are going to be coming through town in a week or two—they aren’t completely sure yet—and we all wanted to see if you needed them to avoid running into you or what your preference would be.” 

“Oh,” Rachel says, releasing her foot and letting her leg relax. “They’re bringing him _here_?”

“Something about his first road trip, but yes, to the city.” 

Rachel nods. She feels a little stunned, but thinks she successfully keeps her face neutral. “He’s a well-traveled infant, isn’t he?”

“Yes. The car doesn’t bother him, as long as he still gets to eat on time,” Kurt says with a slight smile. “They haven’t made hotel arrangements or anything yet, so it is possible you wouldn’t see them at all.” 

Rachel nods again. “Okay. I wouldn’t try to prevent them from seeing you, of course. I’ll just make myself scarce if you’d like to show them the loft.”

Kurt nods, frowning like he’s trying to decide what to say next. He takes another sip of coffee and sighs before he continues. “If you’d like to say hello to Finn and Puck, we can figure out a way for that to happen without Bo along.” 

“Let me think about it,” Rachel says. 

“Okay.” Kurt sets down his coffee and stands, walking over to Rachel and giving her a hug. “Whatever you need, you know I’ll make sure that’s what happens.” 

“I know you will,” Rachel says, hugging Kurt back tightly. “As soon as I can figure out what I need, I’ll let you know.”

Rachel knows she doesn’t have very long to think about it, but she doesn’t make herself delve into her feelings that day. She gives herself permission to sleep on the subject before having to do any soul-searching about what she can and can’t handle. Though she expects to have a hard time falling asleep that night, she finds herself waking in the morning feeling refreshed after what felt like only a few minutes in bed. 

She decides that this, of all reasons, is an acceptable excuse for skipping class just the once, so she takes a notebook to her favorite coffee shop, settling into the comfortable overstuffed chair in the back corner with a soy chai latte and a lemon muffin. Rachel nibbles the muffin and sips the chai as she draws a line down the center of one page in the notebook, dividing the paper into two columns. On the left-hand side, she writes ‘Reasons to See Finn & Puck’, while on the right-hand side, she writes ‘Reasons NOT to see Finn & Puck’. 

Rachel stares at the two empty columns while she finishes her muffin, then begins working on her lists. The right-hand side is easier to starting filling in. ‘Didn’t end relationship on great terms’ goes into that column, followed by ‘Tried to hide pregnancy from him’ and ‘Not sure what to say to him’. She sticks the end of a coffee stirrer into her mouth, chewing on it as she looks down at the left-hand column. With a small sigh, she writes ‘It would be good to see him’ in that space, with ‘And Puck’ under it. 

She stays at the coffee shop for several hours, going back and forth between the columns as new reasons for or against seeing Finn and Puck come to mind. By the time she’s had a third chai latte, both columns are full, and she’s filled in the margins and the spaces between lines, too, and she’s no closer to making a decision. Rachel closes the notebook with a loud sigh, thinking about Finn and the baby, remembering Bo’s little red, squished face when she held him briefly. He hadn’t looked like he hated her, and nothing Kurt has told her has led her to believe that Bo is anything but a happy, well-adjusted baby, with a father who loves him. Finally, she opens the notebook and writes in the empty space above ‘Reasons to See Finn & Puck’.

‘I WANT TO SEE BO’.

Rachel underlines it twice and closes the notebook again, before packing up her things and heading back to the loft, where Kurt is sitting on the sofa reading. She sits down next to him.

“I’ve come to a decision,” she announces.

“About fall classes?” 

“About Finn and Puck,” Rachel says, then adds, “And Bo.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, setting down his book. “What did you decide?” 

“I want to see them. _All_ of them.”

“Okay. Do you have any preference about where?” Kurt asks. 

Rachel shakes her head. “I know I’m probably supposed to suggest neutral ground, but it’s not like there are that many places they could take a baby for any length of time.” 

“True. If you’d rather meet somewhere like a park, though, the weather should be temperate enough.” 

“Maybe we should ask them which they’d prefer,” Rachel suggests. “I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable.”

“Okay. I know your schedule, so if you want me to figure out the logistics, I can,” Kurt says. 

“Thank you, Kurt. You’re my best friend!”

Kurt laughs. “I’d better be.”

A little over a week later, Kurt informs Rachel that Finn and Puck will be visiting the following Thursday, and that they’d be more comfortable meeting at the park, at least for starters, with the option for lunch and returning to the loft for a while after if it goes well. Rachel spends the next few days rearranging the loft, just in case, and trying not to obsess over whether or not she made the right decision by asking to see Bo. She’s sure she’ll still be second-guessing herself right up until the moment she actually sees him, then she’ll know for sure whether she was right or wrong. 

Rachel wakes up early on Thursday and puts on a brightly-colored sundress, comfortable sandals, and a necklace a baby could pull on without breaking it. Even though Finn and Puck won’t be arriving in the city with Bo for at least another two hours, she wakes up Kurt, just to have someone to talk to to help keep the nervousness at bay. 

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Rachel asks Kurt. 

“Why wouldn’t he like you? Unless you had a plan to deprive him of all bottles or something,” Kurt says dismissively. “Of course he’ll like you.” 

“Some babies don’t like strangers,” Rachel says, “and I’ve never really been a baby person. Babies don’t like me.”

“He’s at a perfect age to like strangers, and you’re going to smile at him and his dads, and that’s really all he needs, I promise.” 

“What if he remembers me?” Rachel asks. 

“I don’t think that would make him dislike you,” Kurt says carefully, “but I also suspect he was too young and too much time has passed.” 

“Maybe not now, but he might later,” Rachel says. “Once he’s old enough to realize that I just gave him away—”

“You didn’t give him away. You understandably didn’t feel like you were equipped to raise him, and made appropriate arrangements. It was a good decision for everyone involved,” Kurt says. 

“But can _Bo_ ever understand that?”

“It’s what he’ll be told, yes. No one did anything cruel or capricious, Rachel, and yes, I think he’ll understand that.”

Rachel sighs. “I hope so. I hope this wasn’t a bad idea. Things with Finn could be awkward!”

“I don’t think they’ll be too awkward, Rachel. I really don’t,” Kurt says. 

“I suppose it’s too late to back out now,” Rachel asks, giving Kurt a smile she hopes looks more conspiratorial than terrified. 

“Everything will be fine. Should I treat you to one of your soy chai lattes this morning?” Kurt asks. 

“Oh, I could never say no to a free chai!”

Even with a longer-than-normal stop for Rachel’s chai and Kurt’s coffee, they still arrive at the small park near the loft well before Finn and Puck, which means the two of them end up sitting on a bench watching a harried-looking mother trying to wrangle two screaming identical twins that keep running off in opposite directions.

“Remind me in another five or ten years that I prefer being able to hand the children back to their parents,” Kurt says quietly to Rachel. 

“I think I might prefer that, too,” Rachel confesses, as one of the twins runs face-first into the monkey bars and falls dramatically to the ground, shrieking and flailing. When the mom tries to comfort the screaming twin, the other twin begins rummaging through her purse and opening a tube of lipstick. Rachel leans closer to Kurt and whispers, “I don’t think this will end well.”

Kurt stifles a laugh as the twin with the lipstick starts applying it to himself. “No, no, I don’t think so,” he says. “It may end very, very badly.” 

His lips completely slathered in deep pink lipstick, the twin begins coloring in his eyebrows with it as well. When his mom turns her back on him, he leans forward and scribbles on the seat of her pants with the lipstick. Rachel has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing loudly. 

“At least Finn and Puck don’t keep lipstick in the house,” she says to Kurt. 

“I’ll warn Carole, though,” Kurt says wryly. “Don’t leave a purse unattended.” 

“Oh no! I think he’s eating it now!” Rachel says, still covering her mouth with her hands. 

Kurt’s shoulder shake a little. “I’m almost positive lipstick is non-toxic.”

Before Rachel can share her thoughts on the toxicity of lipstick, however, they see Finn and Puck rounding the corner across from them. Finn has a large bag slung over one shoulder, and Puck is carrying Bo. Rachel waves, and both Finn and Puck wave back. 

“Now it’s really too late to back out,” Rachel says to Kurt. 

“Unless you borrowed NYADA’s fog machine, yes,” Kurt says with a nod. 

“It wouldn’t have fit in my purse.”

As Puck and Finn get closer, Rachel and Kurt stand to greet them. Puck hands Bo to Finn, then steps closer to Kurt and hugs him briefly. “Hey, you two,” Puck says, releasing Kurt and hugging Rachel tightly. “Hey,” he repeats again softly. 

“Hi,” Rachel says, then not sure what else to say, asks, “How was the drive?”

“Longer than it looked on the map, but we got a great picture of Bo in front of the Liberty Bell,” Finn says. “And, well, hey.”

“Hi,” Rachel repeats. Bo twists in Finn’s arms to look at Kurt, wiggling excitedly. 

“Yeah, I know you see Uncle Kurt,” Finn tells him. 

“Come see me,” Kurt says, holding out his arms. “I’m going to buy you candy, Bo, and then when you’re all sticky, give you back.” 

“You can’t give him candy! He’s not old enough!” Finn protests, but he does transfer Bo from his arms to Kurt’s. 

Once Kurt has Bo, Rachel is able to really get a good look at him. He doesn’t look very much like the squished newborn she’d held what felt like years ago. He looks a lot like Finn, though his hair and eyes are darker than Finn’s were as a child, based on what Rachel recalls from the pictures Carole had around the house. 

“He’s so big,” Rachel says to no one in particular. 

“He’s definitely gotten heavier,” Kurt says. “I can see you completely ignored my suggestion about a stroller.” 

“There’s two of us and only one of him,” Puck says. 

“Strollers take up too much room, anyway,” Finn says. 

“But you aren’t going to be _driving_ around the entire city,” Kurt says. “Your arms will eventually get tired.” 

“Which is why we have the baby carrier in the diaper bag,” Puck says. 

“Then your _backs_ will be tired!” 

“Nah, that’s when we hand him to Uncle Kurt,” Puck says, looking pleased with himself. 

“You could get a stroller to keep at your place for when we visit,” Finn suggests. 

“It actually could help my dating stock,” Kurt says carefully, “but it would take up a lot of room.” 

“Get a dog, too, and put a thick blanket in it so it can be a dog stroller sometimes?” Puck says. 

“Or you could get one of those whatchacallits. The kind that folds up,” Finn says. “Umbrella stroller!”

“But check the safety ratings on those first,” Puck says. “Some of them have past issues with pinching.” 

“I have no idea where to check that sort of thing,” Kurt admits. 

Finn grins. “That’s okay. Puck does. All our stuff is _super_ safe.”

“I never knew what a scam some of these companies are,” Puck says. “We need a stronger CPSC in this country.” 

Rachel, who had been content watching the three of them banter, starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?” Kurt asks as he turns towards her. 

“I was just thinking what a good thing it was that Finn has Puck around to worry about these things,” Rachel says, still giggling.

“I never would’ve thought about most of it,” Finn admits. “We’re probably all alive and not living off jarred food because Puck’s good at Google.”

“And the steamer basket,” Puck says. 

“Oh yes, what vegetable would you usually be having tonight?” Kurt asks. 

“I think it’s a squash night, which means we’re _all_ glad we’re in New York and the steamer’s in Ohio,” Finn says. “Aren’t we, Bo?”

Bo turns to look at Finn when he hears his name, grinning and showing off his two small bottom teeth. Rachel laughs again, and Bo’s head whips in her direction. He stares at her with wide eyes, then reaches out one arm and makes a ‘gimme’ motion in her direction. Finn and Puck exchange a look. 

“You want to meet her, too?” Puck says to Bo. “Usually people introduce themselves and say please, but I think you get a pass.” 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Rachel says, then in her most serious voice, says to Bo, “My name is Rachel. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“He’ll probably slobber on you, but just take that as a sign of approval,” Puck says, looking at Kurt and nodding his head sideways slightly. Rachel doesn’t have enough time to protest or process exactly what’s happening before Kurt is plopping a smiling Bo into her arms. Bo promptly grabs a handful of Rachel’s hair and shoves it into his mouth without breaking his smile.

“Hi, Bo,” Rachel says quietly. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Which is why Kurt’s gonna get a nice stroller,” Finn says. Rachel notices he has one hand out, like he’s having to stop himself from patting Bo’s back or maybe even taking him away from Rachel. After a few more seconds, Puck reaches out and takes Finn’s hand, wrapping his fingers around Finn’s. 

“Plus plenty of restaurants have high chairs,” Puck says. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, nodding his head. Rachel notes him giving Puck’s hand a squeeze before she turns her full attention back to Bo, who now has her hair in one fist and her necklace in the other, and seems to be considering the best way to fit both into his mouth.

“Kurt says he’s already crawling?” Rachel asks, directing her question to both Puck and Finn. 

“Army crawling.” Puck moves one arm in what’s probably supposed to be an approximation of Bo’s crawling motion. “On his belly, but he gets around pretty good. Sometimes we race.” 

Rachel smiles as she nods at Puck. “I’m glad I didn’t have to figure out how to babyproof the loft!” she says, and she can see both Finn and Puck, but especially Finn, exhale and relax a little more. “It’s probably full of lead paint, too. It would have been a terrible place to have a baby full time.”

“Everything’s been painted since we moved in, though, and there’s no paint chipping,” Kurt says quickly. 

“Sometimes those pewter ‘heirloom’ baby things have lead in them, which is pretty dumb,” Puck says. “You’d think people would have figured that out by now.”

“Oh my goodness,” Rachel says. Bo yanks on her hair, and she grimaces slightly. 

“Bo, don’t pull hair,” Finn says. He reaches for Bo’s hand, using one finger to pry open Bo’s deathgrip. “Gentle, see?” Bo grabs Rachel’s hair and shoves it in his mouth again. Finn sighs and looks at Rachel apologetically. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” Rachel says. “It’s just a little hair.”

“We’re working on being gentle, but he’s still only seven months old,” Finn says.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Rachel says. She gives Finn a big smile. “See? We’re both fine.” Bo sees Rachel smile, and he smiles, too. Finn nods and steps back again, still watching Bo warily.

“There’s at least one infant swing on the playground, if you think he’d like to try that out before we have lunch?” Kurt says. 

“Those are safe, right?” Finn asks Puck.

“Yeah, as long as they have the safety belt,” Puck says as he nods. 

Finn looks over at the swings. “I’m pretty sure I see safety belts.”

“Do you want to go in the swing, Bo?” Rachel asks Bo, who has managed to get her necklace and a double fistful of hair into his mouth. At least there’s no lipstick involved. 

“Of course he wants to swing!” Finn says. “Bo loves adventures.”

Puck laughs, and Rachel can see him squeeze Finn’s hand. “Judging by how we’re spending the summer alone, that’s probably something of a family trait.” 

All four adults proceed to the swings, where Puck and Finn managed to extricate Bo from Rachel’s hair under a moderate amount of protest on Bo’s part. Rachel feels a little pain in her chest when Bo does his ‘gimme’ hands at her again and starts to cry, but when he promptly stops crying and begins kicking his legs as soon as he’s in the swing, she has to smile. None of this turned out like she would have planned, and she still isn’t really sure how she feels, but nobody could argue that Bo isn’t happy, loved, and well cared-for. 

“It’s like training for a roller coaster,” Puck says. 

“I hate to imagine how he’ll vet the roller coaster safety,” Kurt whispers quietly to Rachel. 

Rachel giggles, one hand over her mouth. “I imagine there’s quite a lot of Googling involved.”

“Do you like that, Bo?” Finn asks, pushing the swing just enough for Bo to move forward a foot or so. “So much fun!”

Bo does seem to enjoy it. He laughs and makes his ‘gimme’ hands at Finn and Puck, clearly asking them for more swinging. Rachel smiles as she slips her arm through Kurt’s and rests her head on his shoulder, watching Puck and Finn taking turns pushing Bo, who keeps laughing and kicking his legs the whole time. No, it’s not what Rachel had planned at all, but in the end, watching the little family in front of her and standing there with Kurt by her side, she knows she made the right decision. 

“You’re doing okay?” Kurt asks. “We can beg off lunch if you’d rather.” 

Rachel shakes her head, and her smile doesn’t falter. “No. I’m okay. I really am.” Bo shrieks happily as Finn gives him a slightly harder push. Rachel wraps her arm a little more snugly around Kurt’s. “I think the hardest part is over.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shhhhh. It'll all be okay.
> 
> (and technically this is our Author's Choice square - but we've got Suddenly!Baby + Friends to Lovers covered, too)


End file.
